


Of Gods and Time Lords

by DasewigGewitter



Category: Doctor Who (2005), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Crossover, F/M, Friendship, Halloween, Misunderstandings, Regret, Time Lord, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 72,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28690575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DasewigGewitter/pseuds/DasewigGewitter
Summary: Set about 5-6 years after the first Avengers movie & shortly after the Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead episodes in Season 4 of Doctor Who. Explores what happens when the gods of Asgard cross paths with the Time Lords of Gallifrey. Mostly AU, but canon where I could manage it. Was meant to be a mini-series for Halloween and Christmas of 2018, but has turned into a much larger project.
Kudos: 1





	1. Short Notice

**Author's Note:**

> A point of clarification on the story framework and format: The primary storyteller (this tends to be the character who narrates a majority of the story) is written in 1st Person perspective. All other characters acting as storytellers are written in 3rd Person. It's a format that I'm borrowing from the fantasy author Juliet McKenna. She used it in her "Tales of Einarinn" series. This story framework is not intended to be classified as an 'x Reader'/'Reader-insert' story.

Tony surveyed the group seated around a large boardroom table in the conference room and grinned. He wasn’t fond of meetings on the whole, but he aimed to enjoy this one. Whether anyone _else_ did…well, he had his doubts. As his gaze caught on the raven-haired god from Asgard, who happened to be distracted by something Cap had said, Tony’s grin broadened.

_I know beyond a doubt_ you _won’t be so amused by what I have to say, Trickster._

On his left, Pepper was giving him a sidelong glance. He read her unspoken message loud and clear: Get on with it already. In a voice loud enough to get everyone’s attention, he announced, “I guess you’re wondering why you’re here.”

“Well, your message was rather vague,” Thor drawled with a shrug. “Didn’t sound like the usual ‘call to arms’ deal, either. So yeah, we’re a little curious.”

“You’d be right- this is about pleasure, not business.”

“Oh here it comes,” Hawk whispered loudly as he leaned closer to Nat. “I really don’t like how happy he sounded just then.”

Tony ignored the comment, and let his gaze land on each person as he revealed why he’d called the meeting.

“The Tower will be hosting a charity event two weeks from this Saturday.”

A chorus of groans- the loudest from Hawk and Bruce, who hated anything that involved large groups of people. A few others wore a more neutral expression. More resigned than anything. No reaction yet from Loki, but Tony could bet he wasn’t thrilled about the announcement. Charity was not typically a word in his vocabulary. And once he found out _which_ charity they were hosting for…well, wouldn’t that be amusing?

Tony let the furor die down some before he gave more details.

“Have you gotten that out of your systems?” He paused a half-second, not really giving them time to answer. “Good. So what are we doing, you may be asking.”

“Or not.”

“On Tuesday, the Huntington’s Disease Society of America received news that the venue they’d hired to host their annual autumn children’s fundraiser had cancelled last minute. Being one of their most notable donors, they approached me with the hope that I could help.”

Silence around the table. A few nervous looks when he’d said the word ‘children’. Even Loki’s serenity had taken a hit on that one, just as Tony had hoped.

“Naturally, I wouldn’t dream of refusing when it’s for such a good cause. So the Saturday before Halloween, we’ll be hosting a Halloween party on behalf of the families with children facing the disease.”

“Hosting as in invite them here- to the Tower?”

“Not to this floor, of course. But the building has a space we use for conventions and investor conferences. It’d be perfect.”

Now he was looking to Pepper for _her_ help. She’d been with him when he met with the Society on Wednesday to discuss some of the details, and had been enthusiastic about the idea. She’d been the one to suggest hosting it here at the Tower. Tony could really use that passion now to sell this to the others. Or at least to sell it to Nat, Thor and Cap. If _those_ three got on board, they would drag the others with them. Pepper must have realized it, and she leaned forward, folding her hands calmly on the table.

_Oh they’re in for it now._

Tony had seen her adopt that posture in many a board meeting. For anyone unlucky enough to be on the receiving end, they usually walked away suitably browbeaten into agreeing with whatever position she’d come to the table to argue. His tough negotiator. Tougher than him half the time.

“Huntington’s disease is devastating, especially for children. The HDSA offers support and funds research that helps people across the country. People who might not have the means to get treatment otherwise. They’re only asking for a few hours of your time that could well secure funding to keep that research running as long as possible. Are you really saying that you can’t spare even _that_ much?”

Cap and Bruce looked as though they might slink under the table in shame. Several of the others traded mildly guilty glances. No one could quite meet her eye, and even Tony had to resist the urge to wince at the biting censure in her voice. Only Loki seemed unaffected by her speech.

_Typical_.

Pepper held the silence, waiting for someone to answer. Eventually, Cap fell on that particular sword on behalf of the group.

“No, we’re not. And it’s not that we don’t _want_ to help, Pepper. But what do any of us know about putting on an event like this?”

“Well, for most of us, the contribution is simple- show up and be entertaining to the guests and potential donors.”

“ _Most_ of us,” queried Hawk suspiciously. “What, then, are _some_ of us doing?”

She turned to him with a sharp smile that likely had him regretting having asked the question. Tone deceptively light-hearted, she answered, “Keep it up, Clint, and I’ll put you in charge of decorations.”

“You _wouldn’t_.”

“Try me.”

“I wouldn’t test her on it, Hawk,” Tony interceded with a chuckle. “Unless you want to spend all of the Friday before filling balloons and constructing a haunted house.”

“You might get the job done quicker if you used your bow to hang crepe paper streamers from the ceiling,” Nat snickered.

“ _Hey!_ ” The outrage in his voice prompted her to break into a full-throated laugh. Wasn’t long before several others added theirs and made suggestions of their own. Hawk crossed his arms and shot her a glare. “Some friend _you_ are.”

“Okay, serious up, guys,” Tony called out loudly, hoping to be heard over the merriment. “We’ve had our fun at Hawk’s expense, but in reality the majority of the event planning will be in Lilith’s capable hands.”

The woman in question had been sitting quietly in the corner up to this point, taking down notes. Part of the normal routine whenever they held meetings. When she heard that, though, she stopped writing abruptly and her head shot up. Judging from the horrified shock in her expression, Pepper hadn’t gotten to talking to her yet and the announcement had come as a surprise. He hadn’t meant for it to be, but it was too late to undo it now.

“You can’t be serious,” she protested.

“Why not? You’re our public relations liaison- makes perfect sense for you to be in charge of this.”

“I manage an inbox and a website, draft speeches and set up meetings. Planning a fundraiser is a little more involved.”

She was downplaying her skills again. A trait Tony had seen crop up time and again in the three years she’d been working for him. Well, six if he included the years she’d worked as an office assistant for one of the companies headquartered in the Tower. Hadn’t known her all that well in those years, but she came to his attention during the search for a public relations manager who would handle everything related to the Avengers. If he’d known Lilith worked in his building when that search began, he would have had a lot less headaches.

The position had been necessary almost from the initial formation of the team. After saving New York- and the world- from complete destruction, the Tower had been inundated by their adoring fans. It got so bad that no one could leave the building. Tony had approached the publicists for his business empire about taking on the task of acting as an intermediary, but none of them would touch this job with a ten foot pole. Too many ‘crazies’, they said.

Which meant hiring someone from outside for the position. That had been a nightmare. Even with three rounds of vetting interviews, Tony spent far too much of his time making the final decision. Or rather, decisions. At least twenty in the first three years. Some of them didn’t last more than a month, turning out to be one of the ‘crazies’ the team was trying to escape. The worst of them insisted on housing in the penthouse itself with ‘full access’ to the team.

Those usually ended with restraining orders.

So when Lilith walked into her interview and told him point blank that she had a life beyond the job and that separating the two was something she expected if she took it…what else was he to do but hire her on the spot? Never regretted the decision in the years since. She ran the gauntlet with the fan clubs and organized far more than just ‘an inbox and a website’. She was the implacable gatekeeper standing watch over the Tower, and turned out to be even more fiercely protective of their privacy than any of them were. Tony thought it a good time to remind her.

“You’ve put events together before. Dozens of them, if I recall.”

“ _Small_ things. And I just ran most of them through an event planner.” Lilith combed her shoulder-length hair back from her face and sighed. “You realize that we’re only talking two weeks. I won’t get on _anyone’s_ calendar on such short notice.”

“You’ll do fine, doll,” he told her with a confident grin. “No guts no glory, right?”

She was _not_ amused in the least, rising from her seat and gathering her things. Tony could feel the woman’s annoyance from across the room. Didn’t bother him; he _excelled_ at getting people riled up. Women in particular. Although, might not have been the wisest choice to antagonize Lilith just now, given that the success of this event depended on her help.

_That and she could easily flood my inbox with fangirl spam._

“If you’ll all excuse me,” she stated with razor-sharp politeness. “It would appear I have a lot of work to do.”

That said, she didn’t wait for a response before walking out of the room. The team watched her until the door closed and then they all turned to him.

“Well, if you were trying to ruin someone’s day, Stark, you nailed it.”

* * *

“C’mon, Peter- just think what this exposure would do for your firm.”

“Lilith darling, if I could, I would,” answered the baritone voice in my ear. It came from the pewter-blond man in his late thirties who’d so kindly accepted my video chat request at this hour.[18] “In a New York minute. But I already committed to another event. High visibility. If I back out now, my reputation will be ruined.”

I tried not to look as disappointed as I felt. Peter was my last chance. A long shot, but I was hoping he’d be able to help out a friend. Leaning back in my desk chair, I scraped my hair back and held it in a makeshift ponytail. After a few seconds, I let it go again with a dispirited sigh. The man on screen gave me a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry- I know you’re in a rough spot.”

“No, I understand.”

“Have you tried Daphne or Raul?”

“Yes and yes. Double and triple booked as it is, so I got nothing but regrets from them.”

After a moment’s pause, he suggested, “There’s always Julien.”

“Oh no,” I protested quickly. “After he bailed on me last time and left me scrambling to pick up the pieces? I said I’d never work with him again and I meant it.”

A phone rang on his end, and Peter glanced to the right. Didn’t pick up, though I could see from his expression that he’d have to return it before too long. His client, most likely. I appreciated that he didn’t just dump my call to take it. Wouldn’t have blamed him if he had.

“Well, I’d say you’re looking at doing this on your own, then.”

“Damn.”

I chewed absently on my thumbnail, thinking of what I ought to do. I wanted to march back to Stark and tell him that I wasn’t going to kill myself to pull this together. But knowing him, he’d laugh it off and find some way of conning me into doing it no matter how much I argued. So why expend the time and energy?

“It’s about time you did, if you want my opinion. You could be doing so much more if you just took a chance.”

_That’s one way to end a conversation, my friend._

“You’re lucky that with everything I have to do, there’s not enough time to rehash _that_ debate again.”

“Hmmm, I think you’d find you’re the lucky one, because you’d just lose that debate again.”

“Remind me- why do I put up with you?”

“Because I’m witty and charming, and you just can’t resist me.”

I rolled my eyes at him, and yet still smiled at what was a private joke between us. A memory from the random encounter in a pub where we met. Peter hadn’t gotten the date he’d been shooting for, but it became the basis for a long-standing friendship. He was married now and had two little girls. Every so often, though, he’d like to tease me with that old line.

“That didn’t work ten years ago when you first tried it,” I teased back.

“Maybe not with you, but Nadine was delighted. She knew a good thing when she saw it.”

“Nadine’s good people.”

“That she is. All right, I have to go, but you let me know if you need any advice. I’ll try to help out if I can- good luck!”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll need it.”

Peter hung up. I stared at the monitor for a minute or two before removing my headset and pushing away from the desk. Time for a break; I’d been at it all afternoon and most of the evening. Pretty much since I’d walked out of Stark’s meeting. Left that and shut myself up in what had come to be known as my ‘office’ on the penthouse floor of the Tower.

Until last year, I had been working from a real office downstairs- across the hall from his regular publicists. Jeff and Maria were fantastic; I’d learned a lot from them in the first year and a half. Still missed them now and then. When I had _time_ to remember to miss them. But working down there had its limitations for the kind of coordination I needed to do on a daily basis, and so Stark had me schlep all of my stuff to the penthouse.

Advantages and disadvantages. Definitely easier to coordinate schedules and whatnot when I could yell down the hallway for someone. Better yet, when I could just ask JARVIS to fetch whoever I needed. But then I had to deal with the reverse; it was that much easier to get a hold of _me._ My office sat right in the middle of the ‘public’ hallway of the penthouse, which meant everyone walked past it at least twice a day.

_It looks like I’m going to be seeing a lot of this room for the next few weeks._

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything besides a granola bar I’d found stashed in a desk drawer. Could do with something more substantial, given I’d be working late tonight. No point in calling anyone else this evening, but I could start lining up vendors I’d need to call tomorrow when businesses opened again. And since this late night was Stark’s fault, I didn’t feel bad about pilfering food out of his kitchen.

The penthouse was quiet as I went in search of a late dinner. I thought it unusual at first, until I mentally read through everyone’s schedules. Pepper and Stark were out for the evening and wouldn’t be back until midnight or later. Bruce, being Bruce, was down in his lab. Hawk was likely already in bed so he could be up at some ungodly early hour tomorrow. That left only three whose whereabouts I couldn’t guess for sure.

None of them were in the kitchen. I touched the dimmer switch gingerly to give me enough light to see what I was doing. And then I went about the business of rummaging around the enormous refrigerator, looking for something that’d do the trick. The pizza looked tempting, but all that cheese…better not. My eyes roved over each shelf.

“You’d think Stark knew I’d raid his fridge and hid anything good,” I complained after an initial pass turned up nothing.

“More like Bruce and my brother beat you to it,” said a voice on the other side of the door. I damn near jumped out of my skin, not having heard anyone come in. “They polished off just about everything between them.”

I closed the refrigerator door with a reluctant sigh and cast a sideways glance to Loki. He was leaning casually against the marble countertop, watching me with a slightly bemused expression. But then, I was hardly surprised; he looked at _everyone_ that way. Once you got over the feeling that he was laughing over some private joke at your expense, the God of Mischief wasn’t too difficult to deal with. Or at least, _I’d_ never had much of a problem.

“Well, I suppose that fits the day I’m having.”

“The fundraiser, I take it?”

“There are times I seriously question whether Stark thinks anything through. Like this charity thing. I realize he just wanted to help, but he has no idea what it takes to coordinate something of that size. Two weeks? He’s insane.”

Seeing as though I’d find nothing useful here, I retraced my steps back to the living room. Loki decided to follow, keeping pace with me and offering his opinion.

“That’s why he hires people to do the work for him.”

“After this stunt, he’ll have a difficult time hiring the next person to do _this_ job for him.”

We’d reached my office. I went in, grabbing a coat and whatever else I’d need. Might as well just go home for the night. I had to get something to eat, and it made no sense to come back afterward. Meanwhile, Loki watched me from the doorway.

“You wouldn’t seriously quit, would you?”

A question I’d asked myself once or twice today.

“I just might. Stark knew in the beginning that I wouldn’t put up with this job interfering with my life.” I shoved my arms through the sleeves of the coat and wrenched it over my shoulders. “To pull off this event on time, I’m going to have to put everything else on hold. Hell, I’ll be lucky to _sleep_ at this rate.”

He said nothing to that, frowning. On my part, I had finished packing up and was ready to go. Slung my bag over one shoulder and turned to leave. Only problem, Loki was blocking my way. I paused mid-step, gesturing to the hallway behind him.

“If you wouldn’t mind…?”

“Were you going somewhere?”

“I was going to eat and then go home.”

At first, I didn’t think he was going to move, but then he took a step backwards and extended one long-fingered hand in invitation. An ordinary gesture for anyone else, but Loki had a habit of giving it a touch of elegance without even trying. It was just a part of what he was.

_And why I get hundreds of emails a day from lovesick fangirls desperate for a chance to meet him._

“By all means. After you.”

I thought he only meant to move aside to let me pass. Was caught by surprise when he fell in step beside me again. Accompanying me all the way to the elevator. When he opened the hall closet to retrieve a coat of his own, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be out on your own,” he replied with an arched brow. “And besides, it’ll give me the opportunity to advise you on all the reasons why you shouldn’t quit.”

Loki had fastened the last button at that point, and I could do no more than stand there, nonplussed. He actually meant to come with me. If I read his expression correctly, refusing wasn’t going to be an option. Outmaneuvered and outvoted. Loki knew it, too, merely waiting for me to accept defeat.

“Oh all right,” I capitulated. “But you’ll have your work cut out for you on that second part."�

* * *

_Challenge accepted,_ Loki answered silently.

Lilith quitting was unacceptable, and he had no intention of letting Stark’s folly push her into making that decision. He just couldn’t endure the thought of what things had been like before. The constant cycle of hiring- and firing- someone to be the liaison between them and the hordes of…

_Fangirls_ , he finished with an inward shudder.

A phenomenon that had shocked and horrified him upon his return to Midgard four years ago. He had been prepared for any manner of reception as part of that return. Or so he’d thought. Encountering fangirls had been thoroughly unsettling. Theirs was _not_ the sort of adoration he’d wanted to receive from the mortals of this planet. Obedience and submission was one thing, but that level of delusional obsession…definitely not. 

Having a reliable barrier to keep them away was highly desirable. Lilith had proven herself very capable in that role, and so he’d make an effort to ensure she stayed on for as long as he intended to be a resident here. That and- though he didn’t want to admit it- he might actually _miss_ her. Setting that possibility aside before he could think too much on it, Loki leaned over to press the call button on the elevator. 

As he and Lilith waited for it to arrive, he asked, “So, what were your dinner plans?”

“There’s a place near my apartment that stays open late. I was going to order carry-out and take it home with me.”

Why did mortals insist upon ruining meal times? The people of this country in particular were some of the worst offenders. Carry-out. Drive-through. Frozen dinners. Always in a wretched hurry. Never really _enjoying_ what they were eating in the rush to get it done with. Like a chore to be suffered through than an experience to be savored. Loki would never understand it. He certainly didn’t intend to participate in the practice, and decided to suggest a better plan.

“You obviously don’t dine out often enough. L’Artusi is open late as well, and the fare would be much better.”

The doors opened and Lilith stepped inside. They were on their way down to the lobby when she replied, “Well, yeah. But it’s the complete opposite direction of where I’m headed. Not very practical.”

“I never said anything about it being _practical_. Just that it was the superior choice.”

“It would take an hour- maybe two- just to get there, eat, and then get home,” she argued. “I don’t have time for that.”

The elevator reached the ground floor, which was deserted at this hour. The business day ended hours ago, and so the large space had been emptied of its never ending parade of staff and visitors. His and Lilith’s footsteps echoed loudly in the eerie silence, drawing the attention of the night desk clerk and handful of security guards. They watched the two of them with rapt interest. Loki paid them no mind, waiting until they had exited to the street before responding.

“Sure you do.”

Lilith tried to sputter some reason why she couldn’t, but he’d already hailed a cab. It pulled up to the curb in seconds, leaving her little choice but to get in. He slid next to her and gave the address to the driver. She, meanwhile, favored him with a mildly disgruntled look.

“Oh would you lighten up? Taking a few hours for yourself isn’t going to impact Stark’s event one way or another.”

A sigh.

“Are you always this exhausting to be around,” she queried with a half-smile.

“Only when other people disagree with me.”

“That doesn’t seem to apply to Stark.”

“He’s a special case.”

“Special in a _lot_ of ways,” she quipped.

Loki chuckled at her jest and leaned back in the seat. The cab wouldn’t arrive at the restaurant for a while, so he thought it a good time to bring up the subject of her quitting. But then her phone rang. Lilith slipped it out of her pocket, looked at the caller ID and glanced up at him.

“It’s a work thing- you mind?”

“Not at all.”

She took the call. Loki listened to the half conversation on her end, watching her grow visibly annoyed the longer it went on. Interesting how she talked with her hands, even when the other person didn’t have the benefit of seeing it. The discussion turned into an outright argument towards the end, when she must have decided she’d had enough.

“I don’t care what Raul told you, Julien. I’m not hiring you for this event after you left me high and dry last time.”

The muffled sound of a man’s voice came through the speaker loud enough for him to make out a word or two. Definitely not flattering in nature. Lilith’s green eyes narrowed, glittering in the shadowy half-light of the cab. She waited until the speaker finished his tirade.

“Hey Julien? Fuck off.” She ended the call and stared hard at the screen for a minute before muttering angrily, “Die in a fucking fire.”

Loki wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Truth be told, he’d never seen her _that_ upset. Not even when Stark had thrown his curveball at her this afternoon. Not at all in the past three years she’d worked in the Tower. His impression of her had always led him to believe she was one of those people who never lost their temper.

_Apparently, I was mistaken._

“I gather you don’t get along with that particular colleague.”

She put the phone away and looked at him as if she only just now remembered that he was there. With a half-hearted shrug, she answered, “I don’t like it when people disappoint me.”

“And this Julien disappointed you.”

“In a big way.”

The car pulled up to L’Artusi. Loki cast her a sideways look, considering what to say.

“Well, then,” he remarked. “Having been duly warned, I will do my best not to repeat his mistake.”

* * *

“No, no, no,” I protested. “It’s already late enough. I’m not staying for another round. Two was _plenty_.”

“I disagree,” Loki argued with a smile that promised mischief. “And besides, it was my turn to repay you for the last round.”

“That doesn’t even-”

He’d already turned his head to the waiter and bade him, “Two glasses- one for me and the lady.”

Clearly eager to take his cue from Loki, the waiter sped off to fetch the glasses of Chardonnay he’d ordered. No doubt eager to increase the amount of his tip, too. I swallowed the rest of my objection, knowing that it was futile and dared a peek at my wrist to note the time. Eleven-thirty. Should have been home over an hour ago, but thanks to the meddling of a certain god, I’d be lucky to see my apartment before 1 AM.

_Tomorrow is going to be a_ very _long day._

While we waited for the wine, Loki speared the last of the roasted mushrooms with his fork. Better him than me; I’d already eaten way more than I intended, and set my own fork down to resist finishing off the last of the charred octopus. I just couldn’t eat another bite. Between the two of us we’d ordered half of the plates from the dinner menu.

Regardless of how he’d maneuvered me into coming here, I had to admit that the food was amazing. Stark had brought the team to L’Artusi once a few years ago for some reason I couldn’t recall now. While I hadn’t been back since, some of the others made a point to come here on occasion. Loki was particularly fond of it.

“So I’m curious,” he began. “Why did you take this job in the first place?”

Only partially surprised by the question, I stacked a few of the empty plates on the edge of the table and shot him a quizzical look.

“Didn’t we already have this conversation a long time ago?”

“Yes, and you told me some nonsense about it being a temporary landing place in your career. Even if I hadn’t _known_ it to be false, you have to admit that explanation doesn’t hold water after three years.”

I tried not to flush at being caught in a lie. Probably should have known better to try it with Loki. Lies were his specialty. Of course he was going to know my story was less than honest. But he’d appeared to buy it, so I had assumed he hadn’t cared much either way. Maybe he did. _Or maybe he’s just bored._ I bought myself a few extra seconds by draining the last of my wine, and then resigned myself to answering his question.

First I had to find an appropriate place to begin. The reasons behind my decision had deep roots that stretched back a long ways into my personal history. How much of that did I want to divulge? How much _could_ I share? I was still asking myself those questions when I heard myself speaking.

“My parents are both educators in their respective fields- physics and engineering.” I toyed with my empty glass, twirling the stem and watching the rim so I didn’t have to look at Loki directly. “Naturally, they expected I would follow their example and study one of the hard sciences. When it came to my education, they made it very clear what areas of study were acceptable.”

_And what ones_ weren’t _._

My tone had taken on a slightly bitter edge, as it always did when I spoke of my parents. I loved them. I really did. But that love was strained and distant. _Very distant now._ Especially after what came next.

“It wasn’t for me. I tried to make them happy and spent several years devoting my time to studying physics alongside my mother. I hated it- and her. Hated _both_ of them for not letting me do what I wanted. And after a while, I couldn’t make myself do it anymore. Told them I couldn’t. They wouldn’t listen or bend in their expectations, and so I walked out. Never went back.”

_Can’t go back._

“It took me a while to find a direction. Still finding it, I think.” The corners of my mouth turned up in a cynical smile. “As to why I took _this_ job in particular? I’d say it was one of the biggest ways I could tell my parents to fuck off with their expectations. They’d see it as having no value or meaning. A waste of my life and a failure on themselves as parents that it’s the direction I chose. For now, I’m happy with that.”

The waiter returned with the wine, removed the empty plates and scurried off again. Loki still hadn’t said anything, but I could see him thinking. I wasn’t sure why I’d gone into all that. Could have given him just the last part- abbreviated even- and not given any of the details I was sure he hadn’t the interest in hearing. Mundane concerns- not really important to a god.

_In particular, not to_ this _god._

“If that’s the case,” he said at last. “Quitting is definitely not an option.”

“Mhmm. Surprised to hear you defend what is, ultimately, a useless profession.”

“Useless is a bit harsh.”

Bemused, I took up the wineglass and took a sip. Then I sat back in the booth and offered my perspective, contending, “If I quit tomorrow and no one came to replace me, the world would go on as if I’d never been here. I’d consider that a fair description of useless.”

That didn’t sit well with the god, who regarded me with a slight frown. He was taking this far too seriously. Far more seriously than I thought he would. In the hopes of diverting his attention back to a more light-hearted discussion, I chose to bring us back to what started all of this.

“That’s a little of my existentialist reading creeping into the debate. Sartre and his ilk sure knew how to shine a depressing light on life. And if they’re right and nothing matters, I guess it’s just as well I stick with this useless profession over any other and get something out of it.”

Loki wanted to say something, but he must have thought better of it. He opted to follow the new direction I’d taken instead. Went one step further, actually.

“Having put the danger of your imminent departure to rest, then I suppose only one important question remains.”

Slightly mistrusting his blithe tone, I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “And what is that?”

“Your choice of costume for the after party Stark intends to throw in the penthouse.”

“The what?”

“After party, so he says. To celebrate the success of the fundraiser. He’s insisting on throwing one for the Tower inhabitants and select guests.”

“Stark didn’t mention that to me.”

_I sure hope he doesn’t intend for me to plan that, too._

“You walked out before he got to that topic on his agenda. Apparently, it’s meant to be a costume party.”

I thought about the phrasing. Tower inhabitants and select guests. I couldn’t be sure I would be included in the latter. Definitely wasn’t one of the former. And since no one had specifically told me I was invited- Stark, mostly- I didn’t want to presume anything. He was particular about his guest lists for any party held in the penthouse. Loki must have seen my hesitation.

“What?”

“I was just thinking that costume choice might be premature until I know whether or not I’m actually invited.”

“Of course you’re invited.”

I shrugged.

“We’ll see.”


	2. Promises and Obligations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith is up to her eyeballs dealing with children. Stark has his hands full playing nice with all the donors invited to the fundraiser, so he's stuck her with the kids. She's no the only one, as the rest of the team are taking turns. Cap is on his way back to the adults after his, and he'll provide some observations on how the fundraiser has gone thus far.
> 
> That'll bring us to Loki, who is also having a miserable evening. As Stark predicted, this event is just not his thing at all. Kids especially. That only makes it so much more amusing when one decides to make his acquaintance. I only intended to use Todd for this short little scene with Loki, but you may notice that he found his way into every POV of the chapter.
> 
> Lastly...Stark. He's pleased as punch that the event went well. Things are winding down and all the guests are leaving. The billionaire has cornered Lilith to help him wish everyone a good evening, despite her having tons of work yet to do for the night. Towards the end of all the goodbyes, we'll see Todd and his parents reappear. It's frickin' adorable. Enough said. And once they leave, Lilith has one last surprise in store for Stark for the evening.

Two weeks. They’d come and gone far more quickly than I liked, but gone they were. The Saturday before Halloween and the big day of the fundraiser. I was already happy to see the end of it; too bad that guests had only begun to arrive.

I threaded my way through the crowded hallway serving as a temporary ante-room, listening to the voice chattering rapid-fire in my earpiece. The caterers. Something about there not being enough tables for the food. I suppressed the curses I _would_ have uttered if not for the three-dozen children milling around. They’d only been here ten minutes and I’d had to bite my tongue several times already.

One of the little hellions darted in front of my path, nearly slamming right into me. I managed to stop him just in time, holding him still by the shoulders. His mother- I assumed- came running after him and offered an embarrassed smile of apology before dragging him off. I shook my head and slipped into the conference room to deal with the next catastrophe. The kids in the hall were someone _else’s_ problem.

“Ms. Morgan!”

I turned at the sound of my name to see the head caterer running up to me. She looked panicked even from across the room. Given that she’d never done an event of this size before, I wasn’t entirely surprised that she was so quick to lose her head. Hadn’t I already talked her off the ledge multiple times since I hired her?

_Stay calm. If you don’t feed her anxiety, she’ll settle down and you can think about a rational solution to the problem._

“Yes? I heard about some mix-up.”

“We’re short one of the long buffet tables. I spoke with the crew that set everything up- they don’t have anything left in the truck.”

I cast a once-over around the room to see how we could make do with what we had. Had to think of something fast; everyone was waiting to be let in any minute. I spotted the three round tables we’d set aside for the kids to construct costumes in the guise of their favorite Avenger. Wouldn’t need those until after dinner, so we could put the food on them for the time being.

_A solution she could have come up with on her own._

“Repurpose the craft tables,” I instructed the woman. “Ask the decorations crew to help you get them in place while I let Mr. Stark know he can get started.”

“Yes, Ms. Morgan.”

When she’d gone, I headed back for the hallway, switching my earpiece to its second channel.

“Stark?”

“You ready?”

“All set. You can go ahead and let them in.”

The doors opened, and a stream of people poured into the venue. Orderly on the part of the adults; nothing short of chaos when it came to the kids. They skipped around the tables with far more energy than I could have expected, laughing and squealing with excitement. Of course, a few of them were further along in the disease, and stayed closer to their parents. But a fair number were only recently diagnosed, and still had all of the unbridled energy of a box full of puppies.

_How are we ever going to get them quiet long enough for Stark to make his opening speech?_

I’d no sooner had that thought when I heard a cajoling, “Hey Lilith, doll?” in my ear.

“Uh uh.” I kept my voice low as I spoke into the microphone. “I know what you’re going to ask when you use _that_ pet name. Forget it.”

“Oh c’mon.”

“No.”

“Just corral up the kiddos and entertain them for a second or two. Pretty please?”

“Ask Cap to do it.”

“No dice. I need him and the other guys to be front and center.”

Our gazes met from across the room, and I shot him a dark look. But he was right. The Avengers were the centerpiece of the event. Stark needed to shove them at the donors he’d invited to get them to pry open their wallets. That left me to handle the ‘kiddos’, as he’d called them.

“You owe me,” I retorted before switching off the channel.

At the far end of the room, we’d set up a haunted house of sorts. Several of the kids were already checking it out, so I decided it’d be the best place to gather up the rest of them. But first they had to know to head over there. I opted for the quickest way to get their attention, and let out a sharp whistle. That one earned me the attention of more than just the kids. Pretending that I didn’t notice all the eyes on me, I addressed the group of faces turned up to listen to what I had to say.

“Hey- we’re all going to play a game together at the haunted house while the adults are talking. We’ll need six team leaders, so I’ll pick three of them out of the kids who get to the steps first, okay?”

They nodded eagerly.

“Ready?”

More nods.

“Go!”

While it wasn’t the most _orderly_ way to get them where I wanted, they sure moved fast. By the time I’d gotten to the house, my three winners were waiting. Still had to choose the other three, but I hadn’t wanted to make it unfair for the kids who couldn’t help moving slower than the rest. I waded through the half circle of children to stand where everyone could see me. One of the more precocious ones sided up next to me and poked my thigh.

“What’s your name?”

“Ms. Morgan, but you may call me Lilith if you like.”

That opened a floodgate of sorts, as another little girl of seven or eight asked, “Are you one of the Avengers, too?”

“No, but I work for them here in the Tower.”

They were all suitably impressed by that, eyes wide. A few of them whispered excitedly to one another until one was brave enough to pose the next question.

“What do you do?”

Damn, they were curious little things, weren’t they? I’d never spent much time around children. Had avoided them, actually, for most of my life. Kids made me uneasy. Probably the prying questions. I did my best to smile at the group.

“Well, I spend most of my time talking to people like you- adults and kids who want to meet the Avengers.”

Thankfully, that answer got them thinking about something other than me. I answered a deluge of questions about anything and everything they wanted to know about the team. The whole time, I noticed that one particular boy standing on the edge of the group wasn’t chiming in with the others. I could see that he _wanted_ to, but the other kids nearby kept talking over him. Almost like they were doing it on purpose. After a few tries, the redhead’s shoulders slumped and he gave up.

_I think I’ve found one of my other three team leaders._

“When are we going to _meet_ the Avengers, Ms. Morgan?”

“Soon,” I promised. “When Mr. Stark-”

“Ironman. He’s _Ironman_ , Ms. Morgan.”

_Count to five and exhale. One, two…_

“You’ve gots to call him Ironman.”

I felt ridiculous calling him by that name, but to appease the mob, I forced myself to do it.

“When Ironman is done talking, we’re all going to eat. After that, each member of the team has promised to spend time with all of you.” A darting look over my shoulder told me that Stark was only halfway finished with his speech. Needed to come up with a game to keep the kids occupied a little longer. “But until then, why don’t we all play a game and get to know one another?”

“What game?”

“Well, here’s how it goes…”

* * *

The children waved at him as he walked away. Steve had been playing with the tykes for the better part of an hour and needed a break. Mentally and physically. Hawk and Nat were taking over in the rotation, relieving him and Thor at the same time- and not a moment too soon. All the same, a few kids were trying to persuade the Thunder god to stay ‘just a little longer’. Most had already been successfully diverted by the new arrivals.

_I sure hope Hawk thought to set the safety on his bow._

Seeing Pepper and Stark in the crowd, he adjusted course. Didn’t want to be cornered by one of the more aggressive donors. Once had been enough. Steve suspected a number of them were just here for the chance to pursue the ‘available’ Avengers. Or even the not so available. They’d write the checks to the Society and pretend they cared about the kids, but their true interest lie in whatever they could coax out of the team. By whatever means necessary. 

Even after so many years of learning to live in this modern world, he wasn’t quite accustomed to the radical changes in courtship. _Wouldn’t even call it that in most cases._

Stark caught sight of him first and welcomed him over to the conversation with a friendly, “Kiddos wear you out, Super Soldier?”

“I’ll tell you, Stark- I’ve fought week-long battles that didn’t leave me this tired afterwards. Children are not for anyone lacking in stamina.”

“No, they’re not,” Thor agreed as he strolled up next to him. “But that doesn’t stop Frigga from insisting I ought to have some of my own.”

“Mothers tend to do that.”

“I keep telling her she’s wasting her breath.”

Pepper laughed softly, remarking, “You may be wasting yours, Thor, if you think that will get her to stop.”

Everyone shared a good-natured chuckle before conversation shifted to a new subject. Stark must have promised to behave himself, or no doubt the teasing would have gone on much longer. If Steve were to guess, Pepper had a hand in keeping the billionaire’s antics in check.

“I’d have to say this has all gone quite well.” He eyed the room and nodded to the knot of kids clamoring for Hawk and Nat’s attention. “Been a good time for the kids- not to mention a decent turn out on the donor side.”

“Lilith really outdid herself,” Steve noted. He shook his head. “Two weeks. I don’t know how she found the time to get all of it done.”

“Where is she, anyway?”

“Getting things squared away for the costume judging contest, I think. Last I heard from her, we’re supposed to do that after Hawk and Nat have had some time with the kids.”

The group fell silent, just watching the activity going on around them. Steve tried to imagine all the details Lilith had to organize to pull this off. Food, decorations, facilities. Somehow, she’d managed to find a band for live entertainment. And who knew _what_ went into constructing that haunted house. On top of that, she’d had the guests to contend with. Scheduling and getting all the invitations out…

“You owe her big for this,” he commented aloud.

Stark snorted lightly with a shake of his head.

“That’s what she said, too.”

“Well you do. Would your regular publicists have scrambled to do this with only two weeks’ notice?”

“Flat out told me they’d quit,” the man admitted with a somewhat sheepish expression. “Pretty sure they advised Lilith to do the same after they found out I dumped it on her.”

That drew Pepper’s notice, and she raised an eyebrow at Stark.

“You never said you asked Jeff and Maria.”

“Didn’t want to hear you say ‘I told you so’.”

“I would have,” she agreed with a sweet smile.

Just then, the three senior members of the Society’s board of directors approached, sparing Stark whatever she would have said next. Two women and a gentleman. Steve had met them briefly at the beginning of the event. Seemed like decent people who really cared about their cause. The silver-haired woman in navy blue laid a hand on Stark’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze as she conveyed her thanks.

“We came over to tell you again that we’re so grateful that you organized this event for us, Mr. Stark. It’s been just wonderful.”

“You may thank me, Mrs. Harris, but I can’t take much of the credit. The lion’s share goes to Ms. Morgan, our PR manager. She’s the mastermind behind the magic.”

“If you ever think of giving her up, we’d be more than happy to engage her to plan all of our events. Dawes and I can’t remember when we had such a fine turnout for one of our fall fundraisers.”

Ever the flirt, Stark winked at the lady and drawled in his ‘I’m charming and I know it’ voice, “I’d best keep my eye out or I’ll find you’ve poached her from my employ when my back is turned.”

The banter continued on for some time. Longer than he or Thor had the patience for, quite frankly. Glad-handing socialites wasn’t their top priority, or even a skill they wanted to improve. It was deadly boring. But Stark could, and would, do this all night. So while he was monopolizing the trio’s attention, Steve let his own wander. Which was when he spotted Lilith.

She had reappeared among the guests, carrying a medium-sized box while an assistant followed close behind with another. The two of them stopped at one of the tables at the far end of the room and began to unpack them. Awards, from what he could see. Likely for the winners of the costume contest. Something else, too, but he couldn’t see what it was from this distance.

Some of the kids drifted away from Hawk and Nat to see what she was doing. By the time Lilith had finished, the majority of the group had abandoned the two Avengers for the excitement at the awards table. Steve caught the archer’s eye, who shrugged as if to say ‘I guess our minute of being important is over’. A commotion with the kids caused him to look back just in time to see that a few of the youngsters had jostled the table and almost knocked the entire display to the floor.

From the look of it, several boys were giving one of the others a hard time, trying to keep the red-headed child away from the table. Steve saw Lilith zero in on the group and separate them immediately. She smiled reassuringly at the boy who’d been bullied, and then turned to the other three children; her expression was very different when she began talking to _them_. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but Steve was pretty sure she was giving them hell.

Of course, with her attention diverted even for those few seconds, the other kids grew impatient. They were all trying to ask her questions at the same time until finally she let out a whistle.

_Damn is that_ loud.

Loud but effective. The kids settled down and listened to her explain what they needed to do for the costume contest. Steve smiled to himself as they nodded in unison after every sentence. A hand shot up from one of the youngest children, who must have had a question. Lilith answered it- and several others- with the patience of a saint. When the questions tapered off, she straightened up and brought a hand to her right ear.

“Well, I think that’s our cue,” Stark announced a second later. “Just got my marching orders from Lilith that she wants the judges to come over.”

“Us, I take it?”

“Full panel. All of us. She says we’ll get our judging sheets to pick the winners when we get there.”

Thor raised a quizzical eyebrow at the word ‘all’, and asked, “She actually got Loki to agree to do this?”

“Don’t ask me how, but as far as I understood, he’s participating.”

“This I _have_ to see.”

* * *

_For what reason is any of this necessary,_ Loki wondered. _If they want money, why does it require such an outlandish event? We could all be spending this time elsewhere, doing any number of activities that would be more enjoyable._

Of everyone at the event, only the children appeared to be having a good time. The adults merely pretended- to varying degrees- to be anything other than bored. Most of them, anyway. A few actually took pleasure in the spectacle; Loki was not one of them. Too many people. Too much _noise_. He didn’t appreciate either, and couldn’t wait for this wretched affair to end.

If it had been just the adults, maybe he would have found it more palatable. _Maybe_. But the horde of waist-high chatterboxes made for a miserable evening. Thankfully, most of them gave him a wide berth, keeping their interactions to staring at him from a discrete distance. Loki wasn’t sure if that was their idea or if they were acting on the strict order of their parents. They, also, kept at a distance, preferring to strike up their conversations with Thor or one of the Avengers.

_By all means- bore_ them _with your inanities. Spare_ me _the trouble of pretending to be polite._

If he didn’t know that slipping away from this nightmare would earn him several hours’ worth of tedium as Thor and possibly Stark lectured him, Loki would have teleported back to the penthouse long ago. As soon as it wouldn’t be obvious that he was missing. Well, that and he didn’t want to face the look Lilith would give him for not keeping his word.

_Not to mention her temper._

He couldn’t afford to lose her good will. She’d promised to get Stark to cease using that wretched nickname Loki hated. So in return, he’d agreed to play nice with the mortals and not spoil their celebration by causing any mischief. Not an easy promise to keep, he’d discovered. He’d been presented with several opportunities to stir up trouble throughout the evening, and the temptation had been hard to resist. After all, wasn’t the spirit of the holiday to play tricks on others?

Distracted by his thoughts, Loki didn’t notice the creeping approach of a child who had wandered away from the rest of the group huddled around Lilith. Which was how he found himself startled by a question posed to him from below his field of vision.

“You’re ‘sposed to be the bad guy- why’d they invite you to their party?”

He tipped his head down to see a boy with an unruly mop of impossibly red hair- and regarded him in silence for a moment. About eight years old, the boy wasn’t used to having patience. He shuffled from one foot to the other, and then decided to prod for a response.

“Did their moms _make_ them invite you?”

Despite himself, Loki couldn’t resist the slight pull of a smile at the question. He suspected that it had been asked by one who’d experienced a similar invitation. What party had this little boy attended only because the host had been forced to include him? If he knew human nature well enough- plenty. Well meaning, clueless parents thinking that a pity invite would sting less than receiving none at all. In reality, it always hurt more. The smile faded.

_You would know, wouldn’t you? Mortals aren’t the only ones who can be so naïve._

Disturbed by the direction his thoughts had taken, Loki shied away from them and refocused his attention on the boy. Rather than address the second question, he chose to reply to the first, musing idly, “The bad guy…I always find it interesting that the ‘good’ guys get to decide who the ‘bad’ ones are.”

Probably too philosophical an answer for so young a child. It kept the boy quiet for a minute as he thought and frowned to himself. Then the redhead looked up at Loki again.

“Which one are you, then? Good or bad?”

After a moment’s debate, Loki told him, “Both. And neither.”

The boy nodded solemnly, accepting the answer far more easily than most adults did. Another minute of silence passed, and then he spoke again.

“Could I…” he paused, uncertain, before blurting out his question. “Would you take a picture with me?”

Loki blinked in surprise. The child actually _wanted_ a photo of him. Children didn’t want their pictures taken with _him_ ; Thor usually received _that_ kind of attention. The novelty appealed to him in ways that it really shouldn’t, and Loki found himself agreeing to the request.

“If you like.”

“Really?” He pulled out a cell phone. “Here!”

After receiving the phone, he realized he’d have to get closer to the ground to capture the two of them at once. He balanced on one knee, feeling oddly self-conscious when the boy slid over a step and waited for the photo with a grin on his face. Loki tapped the button and it was done. He handed the phone back to the boy, who was still grinning as he examined the picture.

“Thanks!” he chirped, angling a look to Loki. The boy was about to run off to the others when he added, “She was right- you’re not as mean as you are in the stories.”

“Who was right?”

“The pretty blonde lady who helped us make our costumes- Ms. Morgan. She said-” he smiled in a peculiar way- “She said I shouldn’t just accept what other people say and find out for myself.”

Then he was gone, leaving Loki to stand there. Staring blankly into space. Not quite able to process any of what just happened. And then he heard footsteps approaching from behind, warning him to bury whatever it was to examine later- in _private._

“Did I just see that happen,” Thor announced as appeared on Loki’s left. “You actually took a picture of yourself with one of the kids?”

_At least annoyance is a mood I am prepared to face._

He half-turned to his brother and shrugged, saying, “Five seconds. As long as I’m required to be here, I suppose I could spend five seconds on a trivial request.”

“Still, though.”

Loki did not want to have this discussion, and sought to end it quickly.

“I’m sure you came over here for a reason?”

“Lilith has the kids ready for the judging contest. I was asked to swing by and make sure to bring you over.”

“She’s really making us do this?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Let’s get it over with, then.”

Thor clapped him soundly on the back, causing him to lurch forward a step. Loki shot the oaf a dark glare, which he ignored, of course.

“That’s the spirit.”

_Remember, she said you’d_ never _hear Stark say it again if you behaved. Bonding the soles of Thor’s boots to the floor so he falls flat on his face- amusing as it would be- isn’t worth giving up that._

By the time the two of them arrived at the judging area, everyone else was already there. Lilith was passing out clipboards with sheets of pale orange paper on them. All the while, she was harried by a million questions from three-dozen excited children. ‘Ms. Morgan this’ and ‘Where do I stand, Ms. Morgan’. They never seemed to end.

And yet Lilith smiled through it all, as if answering the same question ten times didn’t bother her one bit. How Loki envied her patience, even if he didn’t expect to ever need it. Certainly would never let himself get roped into playing ringmaster for a circus like this. Which was why, tongue in cheek, he couldn’t resist at least a small amount of teasing when she came to hand him his clipboard.

“You’ve missed your calling, Lilith. I can’t help noticing how well you handle the demands of children.”

She’d been about to turn away to her next task, but his comment had her meeting his gaze and holding it. The look in her eye promised that her retort would be nothing short of insolent and pithy.

“I don’t know why you sound so surprised. I’ve had three years of practice.”

“Ouch.”

“The truth hurts,” she replied with a wicked smile.

He laughed to himself before adding quietly, “Seriously, though, I don’t know how you aren’t pulling your hair out.”

“I want to,” Lilith admitted in a low whisper. “Mine and quite possibly theirs. I’m glad this is the end or I’d lose my mind.”

This time, she did back away to shepherd the group into position. Loki sighed inwardly, glancing down at the clipboard. _Let’s try not to drag this out any longer than it needs to be- for both of us._

* * *

The winners had been announced. Trophies handed out and gift bags exchanged. Following that, they’d had round after round of pictures. Now the kids, parents and assorted guests were beginning to pack up and leave for the evening. Tony stood near the doors to usher them along- as did Lilith.

She’d tried to run off as soon as the contest ended, headed to take care of something in the back room. Tony caught her before she made her escape and herded her to the front of the room. He refused to stand there accepting thanks and praise for an event that she had put together. So he’d stood at her elbow to ensure that she didn’t sneak away when he wasn’t looking.

Despite her obvious discomfort at being at the center of attention, they’d survived. There’d only been that one awkward moment when a trio of boys and their parents had come up. The children kept their heads down, as if they were trying not to be noticed by her. Their parents were equally uncomfortable. A story there, but no one was willing to tell it. Tony let it go, and cast a look over to Lilith after they left. He couldn’t help noticing the subtle way she was fidgeting.

“Can you not be still? I swear you’re worse than our young guests of honor.”

“Sorry,” she replied with an audible sigh. “It’s just there’s so much yet to do tonight. The food needs to be stored, and then there’s the tables and chairs to get back onto the truck, and-”

“Relax, okay? The hard part is over. Enjoy this little break and let all that wait.”

Lilith didn’t look convinced, but she did make an effort to settle down. The next group approached: a red-headed boy and his parents- or possibly foster parents; he saw no resemblance between them and the child. The latter was almost bursting to talk to Lilith the minute they were in earshot. He trotted awkwardly ahead of the adults, holding up a phone.

“Ms. Morgan!” he yelled. “Ms. Morgan- guess what?”

“Why hello, Todd. What’cha got there?”

“I did what you said, an’ he _isn’t_ so mean that one glare would kill me dead. We were talking an’ he never even glared at me _once_.”

Lilith bit back a laugh, trying to keep a straight face at the wild tales children told one another. Tony was likewise doing his best to be serious. By that time, the parents joined them and gave him somewhere to direct his focus. Lilith, of course, was still center of the little boy’s attention.

“He even gave me this.”

Todd thrust the phone as high as he could reach so that she could see. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw the image on screen. Was _not_ expecting to see that the Trickster had consented to have his picture taken with the boy. And judging by the angle...

_Looks like he took it_ himself. _I’ll be damned._

While Lilith chatted with Todd about his encounter with the god, Tony struck up a conversation with the parents. A much wiser decision, given what he might be prone to say. He wasn’t known to be the most child-appropriate conversationalist, even on his best behavior.

“Todd seems to have had a good time.”

“He did,” the mother replied. “It’s always hard for him at these events, so we were glad that this one was better for him.”

“Not a big fan of crowds?”

They traded an uncomfortable look, not wanting to answer at first. The father’s gaze drifted over to where Lilith and Todd were talking. He must have decided that she had cornered the boy’s attention well enough to speak freely.

“It’s a small community- you get to know everyone and end up at the same fundraisers. For most of the kids, it means finding friends, but for Todd…”

Tony understood immediately.

“I take it he isn’t in that group?”

“They tend to pick on him. You know how children can be.”

_Yeah, merciless. I bet I know now what the story is with those other three boys._

“We’ve been to a few of these where it got so bad that we just left,” the father continued. “Didn’t go to any others for a long while- especially after Todd’s brother passed away last year. They were both diagnosed with HD, but Brandon’s was more aggressive. While he was around, they at least had each other, you know? Without him, Todd didn’t have anyone. It was tough. But then the invitation to attend this event came and Todd was so _excited_ to meet you all- we decided to take the risk.”

Well, _that_ certainly put a lump in the back of Tony’s throat. He had a hard time talking around it, swallowing once or twice first.

“We were all glad to meet him.” He smiled and shook his head. “Even the Trickster, it would seem.”

“I’ll admit,” the mother half-whispered. “I was somewhat anxious about letting Todd go over and introduce himself. But he said Ms. Morgan assured him that it’d be all right.”

“She would know. Lilith’s the resident expert on everyone in the Tower. You should get Todd signed up for the fan club newsletter she puts out if he isn’t already.”

“Oh he’s been a member from the beginning,” she assured him with a laugh. “He reads it to us every month as soon as it comes out.”

Lilith must have finished with Todd, who had somehow convinced her to take a photo with him. The boy was now staring up at Tony, pulling on the bottom edge of his jacket.

“Mr. Stark? Could you take the picture for us?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

He accepted the phone and waved Todd over to where Lilith had crouched in anticipation of getting into frame. Her expression warned him not to laugh as the boy wrapped his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug. Tony obeyed, but she had to know he’d be bringing this up in the not too distant future. After all, she was notorious for avoiding cameras. He couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease her a little.

_Not to mention, it’ll be a two-for-one deal. I can get her_ and _Reindeer Games at the same time._

“Ready?”

“Yep!”

“And…done.”

Lilith got to her feet while boy and parents gave their thanks and said their goodbyes. They’d barely gone through the doors when the next group- finally, the last- came up to them. All the guests were gone, leaving just the Society board members. The three of them repeated their ebullient praise for the event’s success- even tried to coax Lilith into put on their next event. She, wisely, played the invitation very casually and didn’t commit herself one way or another.

By the time they’d finished, the rest of the team was gathering up and heading over. Cap and Bruce shared a laugh over something one of them had said. Given the look Hawk shot across to them, it must have been about him. The archer muttered a reply under his breath, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Nat. Overall, the group appeared to be in good spirits. Tony would consider that a success in and of itself. He grinned at Pepper, who sided up next to him, then turned to the others.

“That’s one good deed done for the day. I just want to thank everyone for doing this. I know it’s not what some- or most- of you would have wanted to spend your Saturday doing, but we helped raise a sizable chunk of change for the Society and made those kids’ day.”

Various ones nodded or murmured that the thanks wasn’t necessary. Tony turned to Lilith.

“And the real thanks goes to you, doll. None of this would have been possible without your help. You’re absolutely right that I owe you for everything you’ve done. So whatever you want- just name it.”

She considered for a long moment, raised an eyebrow and repeated dubiously, “Anything I want, you say?”

“Well, I can’t give you something crazy like buying the Eiffel Tower for you. But if I’ve the means, I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“Have no worries there. I don’t want anything _that_ extravagant.”

_Why am I not comforted by that answer?_

He ignored the warning bells clanging in the back of his brain and queried, “Oh? So you’ve already thought of something?”

She nodded.

“You have a fondness for using a particular nickname- you know the one I mean.” _Uh oh._ She leveled an unwavering stare in his direction and said, “What I want is your word that you won’t speak it again.”

_Wish she’d asked for the Eiffel Tower,_ he grumbled dismally. _That would have been easier._

Eight pair of eyes bored into him, waiting for his answer. Tony hoped his smile hadn’t turned as anemic as he felt. But Lilith had really kicked the wind out of him with her demand. Never could have guessed she’d want _that_. Want it she did, though. And since he’d made his offer in good faith…

“All right, Lilith. If that’s what you want, then I’ll hold up my end of the deal. I won’t say it again.”


	3. Convincing Disguises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor's going to start out by telling us what Stark's done to the penthouse in honor of celebrating the holiday. And then we'll have an opportunity for him to catch up with Loki...which is then interrupted by Stark. The last of those will take the conversation in an unexpected direction that Loki will not like one bit.
> 
> He'll leave the conversation pretty upset, and runs into Nat and Pepper. The subject about his argument with stark will come up, and he'll need to step out onto the terrace to cool his temper. That's okay- it'll give him time to find out where Lilith is, as she's not at the Tower. Was intending to be there, either, until Loki calls and changes her mind. The manner in which he does that leaves her wondering just what might happen when she does get there. 
> 
> Loki is likewise thrown off by what he's just said. While waiting for her, he'll reflect on the nature of their interactions of late and come to an uncomfortable revelation. And a dilemma. Thor will try to help him talk through it, but they won't get far before some of the other Avengers join them on the terrace. And then Lilith turns up...

The penthouse teemed with people. They gathered in clusters around strategically placed tables laden with food and drinks, talking and laughing over each other’s costumes and gawking over the decorations. Most of them hung out in the common room or the formal dining room, but the overflow spilled into the main conference room and even the kitchen. Pretty much every square inch of the ‘public’ side of the Tower’s top floor. Hel, some even braved the late fall chill to stand out on the terrace.

And speaking of decorations- Stark had brought in an entire _team_ early this morning to ‘dress up the place’. As Thor made his most recent circuit of the rooms, he didn’t quite know what to make of the end result. The transformation was quite impressive, though. All of the regular lighting had been switched out for bulbs that glowed amber and red- or some that Bruce had explained were ‘black’ lights. Which made _no_ sense, since they looked purple to him. Lighting was only the beginning. Even the layout had gotten a massive overhaul. The larger rooms were sectioned off- either by tall, heavy curtains or genuine set pieces that mirrored exterior walls. They effectively turned the penthouse into a sort of maze, making it seem even bigger than it was already. Once or twice, Thor had gotten turned around thinking he was headed to the kitchen, only to find himself in the conference room instead.

By far the most extravagant, though, were the creatures and ornaments the crew brought in to inhabit the artificial maze. Stark boasted that he’d pulled strings to get one of the Broadway theatres to lend him props out of its extensive collection. A few of the more elaborate pieces were so lifelike that one had to look twice to be sure they weren’t real.

_And we’re not even going to_ talk _about that damned giggling carpet in the hallway._ He must have damn near jumped out of his skin the first time he set foot on the thing and that eerie giggle rose up from the floor beneath him. Thor deliberately avoided the spot the next time he’d passed through, only to have it catch him at a _different_ place altogether. _First thing I tell Stark when I see him is I’m ripping the damned thing up the minute this party is over._

Aside from _that_ , though, he was having a decent time at the party. Could have done with a smaller crowd, but the guest list on this one just kept growing as Stark kept remembering names to add to it. Politicians, socialites- one or two A-list actors and actresses, even. From the look of it, no one had declined the invitation.

Thor turned a corner and happened to cross paths with Loki. They’d seen little of one another this evening, so he _hoped_ his brother wasn’t stirring up too much mischief. A party like this bred opportunities for the god to misbehave. Since he had nothing better to do, Thor nodded to Loki in greeting, who nodded back.

“So,” he said after giving him a long, assessing look. “I take it you decided not to participate in the costume part of Stark’s party, then?”

“Quite the contrary.”

He studied him again, perplexed at what his brother could possibly be. He was wearing a black suit and white silk shirt- a little formal for the occasion, but hardly what Thor would consider a ‘costume’. The pendant with an obsidian stone was a bit of an odd choice, though. As was the matching ring. He’d never seen either of them before.

“All right,” he conceded after a moment. “I give up- who are you meant to be?”

“Don’t take it too hard that you couldn’t work it out. I decided to come as a literary character.”

A deliberate dig because he didn’t enjoy spending his free time with his nose stuck in a book. Thor refused to let it bait his temper and merely said, “I shouldn’t be surprised. Which one?”

“With the fascination Midgardians have about their version of ‘hell’ and the creatures who reside in it, I thought it appropriate to masquerade as a character by the name of Daemon Sadi.”

“So, a demon?”

“No.”

“Then what-”

“It’s not important, so don’t worry about it.”

Thor saw no point in pulling that thread. He really didn’t care what his brother chose to be or why. The most important thing was that he was humoring Stark and hadn’t picked a disguise that would cause trouble. And yet Thor couldn’t help remarking, “Convenient that it didn’t require much effort on your part.”

Loki saluted him with the glass in his left hand and then took a drink.

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

“I’m surprised you made any effort at all. I thought you’d told Stark that you wouldn’t be part of such ‘nonsense’.”

“It’s not uncommon to change one’s mind.”

Thor would bet there was more to it than that. Lately, it seemed whenever Loki ‘changed his mind’ or did something that wasn’t typical for him, they would discover that Lilith had something to do with it. Like the fundraiser this past weekend. His brother had been far more cooperative about it than normal- because _she’d_ bargained a deal.

_One Hel of a deal, too. Getting Stark to quit calling him ‘Reindeer Games’ was nothing short of brilliant._

The billionaire sulked all day Sunday about having to give up one of his guilty pleasures. Especially after Lilith made it clear she wouldn’t accept a trade for something else. No matter _what_ Stark offered. By the end of the day, the man finally resigned himself to giving up hope that she’d release him from his promise. After that, his mood improved somewhat.

_Having the distraction of this party helped._

So did having a new puzzle to poke at. Stark been the first to work out the connection between Loki’s good behavior and Lilith’s request. And then this and that person started talking about things they’d seen during the fundraiser…Stark’s immediate response had been to speculate on a _lot_ of things where Lilith and Loki were concerned. Worse yet, he’d gotten the rest of the team half convinced he was right. That was almost enough to make up for the loss of the nickname.

_And almost no less annoying._

“Thor!” a voice called out enthusiastically from across the room.

That would be him now, popping up as if thought alone had conjured him into being. From the sounds of it, he had been enjoying himself to the point of having gotten a tad drunk. While the billionaire ambled over to them, Thor figured he’d better stick around in case he had to referee an argument. The wary look in Loki’s eye as Stark approached indicated that he, too, didn’t quite trust what the mortal might want.

“Thor, my friend. I’ve been looking for you. And…” his head tilted to the side as he paused long enough to remember what _not_ to say next. “Loki.”

“Stark,” Thor replied neutrally.

“Having a good time?”

As his brother didn’t appear inclined to answer, he supposed it was up to him to carry this conversation.

“It’s quite the party you put on, Stark.”

“Couldn’t let Lilith have all the glory. Thinking I might do one every year.”

“The fundraiser or the house party?”

“Both.”

He exchanged a look with Loki. Lilith had said several times that this was a one-time deal- directly to Stark on more than one occasion, in fact. He ought to know she’d never agree to run another fundraiser next year. Probably forgot. Again. Thor thought a gentle reminder might save the man from getting too carried away with that line of thinking.

“You might want to just stick to the house party. Remember what Lilith said- she was pretty adamant she didn’t want to put on another fundraiser after this.”

“Well, _next_ year I’ll know better than to ask last minute.”

“Won’t make a difference,” Loki assured him, throwing in his opinion alongside Thor’s.

“Why not?”

“It just won’t.”

Stark studied him for a moment, finished his drink and then queried mildly, “And would that be her decision to make, or yours?”

_Oh here we go._

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means I wouldn’t put it past you to _persuade_ her against the idea so you don’t have to do it again. I mean, you already got what you wanted out of this time, so there’s nothing in it for you to attend another one.”

Around them, the rest of the guests were laughing and having a good time; in their pocket of the room, though, a chilly silence had fallen after those words were spoken. Thor wasn’t sure what gave him the most unease- Loki’s fury, or the lack of any outward sign of it beyond his expression. It wasn’t the sort of anger that ended in a fistfight.

_No, that’s the look of someone planning to murder someone._

“I _never_ coerced Lilith into interceding on my behalf in regards to that wretched nickname,” Loki insisted vehemently. “She made the offer on her own. And if you persist with this line of accusation, mortal, you won’t _live_ long enough to regret it.”

His brother didn’t wait for a reply, stalking away without a backward glance. Thor made sure he was out of sight- and out of earshot- before he rounded on Stark. The fool was actually _smiling_. Like he didn’t comprehend how precarious his life had become in the space of a few minutes. Thor knew Loki wasn’t joking. One more word on that subject and Stark could very well end up dead.

“What is _wrong_ with you,” he demanded. “Do you have a death wish, or are you just too drunk to keep your mouth in check?”

“Neither,” the man replied, still smiling.

“Then why are you acting like a death threat is the best present you could have gotten?”

“Because it is.”

Thor blinked, not quite expecting that answer. Not quite sure what he could mean by it. Rather than try to work it out for himself, he decided to get Stark to explain.

“Okay, you lost me.”

“I know Loki had nothing to do with it. Hell, it wouldn’t even make _sense_. He might be able to convince her to ask for the favor, but how could he be _sure_ I’d promise Lilith ‘anything she wanted’ in the first place? I could have just as easily decided to throw a ton of money at her as a ‘bonus’. It’s too much of a risk on his end.”

“So, then you accused him of it _why_?”

“To test whether my latest theory was right. Given the reaction, I’d say it is.”

“Oh for the love of…” Thor shook his head. “This doesn’t even come close to proving _that_.”

Stark raised an eyebrow and examined his empty glass.

“Care to lay a wager on it?”

* * *

He needed to find somewhere to be alone. Away from the mortals. Far away from Stark in particular. Loki _should_ have been in better control of his temper, but the chain holding it in check just…snapped. Snapped in a way it hadn’t done in longer than he could remember. Not even the trying few months upon returning to Midgard had provoked the kind of white-hot rage that struck him just now.

_So what about his comment sent you over_ that _particular edge?_

Loki didn’t have the chance to answer the question, interrupted by the sudden appearance of Pepper and Romanoff. They were equally caught by surprise at running into him. But rather than continue on their way, the ladies stopped short to talk. Loki really wasn’t in a suitable frame of mind for conversation, but it would be easier to endure a few minutes than to convince them to go away.

“Oh, so you _are_ here,” Pepper said with a playful lilt in her voice. “Nat and I thought you might have snuck off to your room once all the guests arrived.”

He would have if it didn’t sound too much like hiding. Children hid. Cowards hid. Loki was neither, so here he was.

“Not at all,” he answered with what he hoped was a smile. “I was just on my way to the terrace, though. Feels a tad claustrophobic.”

“We just came in. The break from all the noise is nice, but it’s wicked cold out. Fair warning.”

Loki managed to recoup some of his good humor, imagining how the ladies must have been freezing on the terrace in their costumes. Pepper had chosen hers from the pages of literature as he had done. Only the filmy robe of the fair elven Lady Galadriel didn’t offer nearly as much protection from the biting wind of a New York winter as his suit jacket did. Romanoff wouldn’t fare much better in her recreation of…well, he wasn’t sure _what_ she was meant to be, but the outfit left most of her arms, legs and midsection bare to the elements. Not the sort of costumes meant for standing outside in these unforgiving temperatures.

_Although, it’s a mild summer day compared to the deep freeze of Jotunheim._

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He debated whether or not to ask, and then decided he would. “Have either of you seen Lilith yet?”

They exchanged a long look. Precisely the reason he hadn’t wanted to ask. Ever since the fundraiser, everyone in the Tower got a particular look when it came to the topic of Lilith. While no one had breathed so much as a word in front of him- or her- Loki was certain that a number of theories were circulating through the Tower. All baseless, of course. Just the inclination of mortals to create drama and gossip making more of it than it really was.

“I haven’t seen her,” Romanoff replied eventually. “Pepper?”

“No. I’m sure she’s here somewhere, though. Did you try the kitchen?”

He’d done several circuits around the penthouse, but Loki wasn’t going to tell them that. So he shrugged as if it didn’t matter either way and dismissed the subject with a nonchalant, “She’ll turn up sooner or later.”

“Did she ever say what costume she intended to wear?”

“Not to me.”

And he’d asked. Several times. Lilith would always find some means of dodging any definitive answer. Not even a hint about the genre or theme. At first she’d made excuses about whether she was invited. Then when _those_ ran out, she’d said she was going to focus on it after the fundraiser. But then Monday came and she just stopped coming into the office. Told everyone on Sunday that she’d ‘work from home’ and Loki hadn’t seen her since.

_Maybe she isn’t coming._

Belatedly, he realized that Pepper had asked him something.

“What?”

“I said, did you happen to know where Tony is?”

Hearing Stark’s name rekindled the fury that had him heading to the terrace in the first place. Wasn’t Pepper’s fault for asking, and so Loki did his best not to glare at her. His best wasn’t quite good enough, however, because whatever she’d read in his expression caused her to sigh.

“What’d he do now?”

“It’s nothing. A minor disagreement.”

Oh she did not buy that _at all_. If his lie was transparent enough a mere mortal could see through it, Loki was in trouble. Pepper crossed her arms and stared at him, willing to stand there as long as it took to get a proper answer. Romanoff matched her stance.

“Did you want to try that again,” the latter queried in a tone just shy of an actual order.

“It’s between Stark and me.”

“You may want it to be, but knowing Tony, I very much doubt it’ll stay that way. Whose side do you want told first?”

Pepper was right. Even if Thor hadn’t been a witness, Stark would be sure to retell the story the first chance he got. Whining that _he_ was the one who’d been mistreated. So perhaps now _was_ a good time to try to stack the deck in his favor. But it wouldn’t do to give the impression that the two ladies had intimidated him into answering the question. They _hadn’t,_ but he didn’t want them to _think_ they had. Again, he adopted an air of indifference and hoped it worked.

“If you must know, he claimed I had something to do with the promise Lilith requested of him. That I was responsible for it.”

“Well, _technically_ , you are,” Romanoff pointed out. “Without you there would be no nickname or a reason to ask him to stop saying it.”

“That’s not what he meant. He said-”

The words hadn’t even formed yet, and his veneer of calm had already evaporated. Loki drew in a breath and let it out with an ominous hiss, trying to regain control. It was that or get out of this place before he really _did_ kill that self-righteous, hypocritical bastard. Accusing him of influencing Lilith’s decisions- worse than that, actually. That he’d forced her to carry out what _he_ wanted her to do.

_And why is that an unreasonable accusation for him to make? You’ve done it before. Just ask Barton._

_I didn’t do it_ this _time!_

And _that’s_ where the rage came in. It was one thing to be called out for scheming and general ‘bad’ behavior when he’d actually _done_ something. But to hear accusations laid down on his head when he was innocent…that struck a nerve. Had _always_ struck a nerve. Here and especially on Asgard. Anytime anything unpleasant happened, they all pointed to Loki as the cause.

The scapegoat.

Old wounds that wouldn’t completely heal. Not when even a mortal like Stark could reopen them at any moment. And here he stood letting Pepper and Romanoff read him like a book. Loki reached for anything to rebuild his façade long enough to get away from here.

“Said what?”

Romanoff’s eyes widened as she must have pieced it together on her own.

“Not- you don’t mean responsible like the thing with Barton? Not _that_.” A sharp smile was his only reply. “He had to have meant it as a joke. Granted, a bad one, but just a joke.”

“He meant it.”

“Well, that’s just- Loki, you know none of us believe that. I doubt Stark even does.”

“I don’t care what any of _you_ believe or don’t believe. I didn’t do it, and if he mentions it again- serious or in jest- there _will_ be consequences. Now if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I’ve said all I intend to say on the subject.”

Neither of them tried to detain him further, for which Loki was grateful. And because he didn’t want to deal with other conversations during what could become a very long walk to the terrace, he chose to teleport there instead. Empty. To keep it that way, he used his magic to disable the locking mechanism and prevent anyone from opening the door.

Satisfied that he would be left alone for a while, Loki crossed the open space to stand at the balustrade enclosing the terrace. His breath created wispy plumes of tiny ice crystals in the frigid night air. For a time, he did no more than stare out at the city as the chill from the masonry leached through the sleeves of his jacket. Once or twice, a stiff breeze swept across the terrace, combing through his hair like icy fingers.

Most would have found the experience unpleasant, but he found it peaceful. An atmosphere that helped smooth the jagged edges of his temper. After a while, he was calm enough to rejoin the other guests. Before he did, though, perhaps he ought to discover Lilith’s whereabouts. Loki withdrew his phone from his jacket and pulled her up in his recent contacts.

* * *

My phone buzzed on the countertop. I had just set it down in order to get a soda out of the fridge- hadn’t even laid a finger on the door handle yet. Probably the universe’s way of telling me that I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine so late at night. Reluctantly, I glanced over my shoulder to read the display and sighed.

**{Loki 10/31/2018 10:37:11 PM}:** Are you at the party?

_Knew he’d text me eventually._ I could pretend I hadn’t seen the message. Could just walk back into the den and finish what I was working on. _And tell him what when I go into work tomorrow? He’s not going to believe any lie I try to feed him._

Really was irritating to be friends with the world’s most accurate lie detector. Even after three years, I still wasn’t used to being so careful about what I said- or _didn’t_ say- to him. Or around him. Or in the general vicinity of the Tower on the whole. I’d always thought of myself as a generally honest person. Hadn’t been aware of how often I bent the truth until crossing his path. Perhaps no one really does.

_I wonder if Loki ever gets tired of his uncanny talent?_ We’d talked about many things over the years, but never a candid discussion about his…talents. Might be interesting to try one day. On my part, I imagined that it wasn’t a pleasant gift to live with. _You’d never have the relief of being blissfully unaware that someone is deliberately lying to you. You’d_ always _know._

In the end, I grabbed the phone and pulled up his message to answer.

**{Lilith 10/31/2018 10:39:37 PM}:** No

**{Loki 10/31/2018 10:39:48 PM}:** Are you at least on your way?

**{Lilith 10/31/2018 10:40:01 PM}:** Not exactly

I had expected him to fire back a question insisting to know what I meant by that. What I got was much worse. The phone rang. Muttering a mild curse, I held it to my ear and pressed the ‘accept’ button.

“Where are you, exactly?” he demanded without even the pretense of a ‘hello’ first.

“At home.”

“That’s halfway across town.”

“I know.”

The line fell silent. Long enough that I checked to see if he’d hung up. But the seconds were still counting up, so he was still on the other end. Maybe waiting for some kind of explanation. I didn’t know what to say.

“Are you not coming,” he asked quietly in a tone that conveyed disappointment.

“I-”

“You could have just said so from the beginning.”

If I’d been certain one way or the other, I would have. But ever since Stark announced he was throwing this party, my thoughts had been shifting one way and then the other. Thought I’d made my decision on Saturday. Was all set to go. Then things got…complicated.

I knew what people were whispering around the Tower. The things they were saying about me. And Loki. Most of their theories shot wide of the mark; others came far too close for comfort. Which was why I decided to work from home most of this week. Keep away from the Tower and let it all die down. That included skipping out on the Halloween party tonight.

_Running away again?_

The accusation stung, but only because it was true. I _had_ run away. Just like I’d run away from dealing with my parents. Just like I’d run away from countless other things and people when I couldn’t- or wouldn’t- face them head on.

_Is that what you’re going to do your whole life?_

_No, of course not. But this is complicated._

_You say that like it’s ever going to be simple._

“Lilith? Are you still there?”

That was Loki’s voice in my ear, pulling me away from the one in my head. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before asking, “Do you really want me to come?”

I’d thought he’d take a minute to think about his answer; he didn’t.

“Yes.”

What else could I say to that? What would anyone have said? I shoved my heart back out of my throat, though it wasn’t the easiest task.

“All right. I’ll be there. It might be midnight by the time I do, but I’ll be there.”

“I’ll hold you to it. If midnight comes and you’re not here, I’m knocking on your door to know the reason why.”

With that, he ended the call. I stared at the darkened display for longer than a minute, still processing those words. Wondering if Loki had meant them the way they sounded.

_I guess I’ll find out one way or another before the night is over._

First things first: I was not suitably dressed for a party. My wrinkled tee-shirt and yoga pants with the ratty hems would not count as a costume by any stretch of the imagination. Worse yet, I hadn’t bothered to shower all day. Something that needed remedied before even _thinking_ about clothes. I headed for the bedroom, stripping down as I went. I’d tidy up after myself later. Meanwhile, I groped blindly for the light switch, wincing as the harsh bare bulbs over the vanity flickered on.

_Really need to hire someone to renovate this place._

At least the water never gave me trouble. My last apartment never seemed to get hot water and the pressure had been a joke. Not a problem here. In seconds, steam rose above the glass cubicle door. I jumped in, went about the business of taking care of basics, and then reached for the knob with the intent of getting out. I hesitated.

_Maybe do a bit_ more _than the basics._

The change of mind added another five minutes, which I hoped wouldn’t make me feel silly for later.

_Who are you kidding- you already feel silly._

I didn’t deny it, tousling my hair vigorously with a towel in the hopes of getting it dry. Dry enough, anyway. Then it was back to the bedroom to my closet. The costume I’d set aside for the party hung on its hanger. While fastening buttons and zipping zippers, my eyes strayed to the clock on the bedside table. Almost eleven. I’d have to hurry with the rest if I wanted to keep my promise.

Dressed and back in the bathroom, I swiped at the fogged mirror until I could see what I was doing. By then, the curling iron had heated up. Typically didn’t even use a hair dryer, but with this costume…an absolute requirement. Even if it did cost me another fifteen minutes. Totally worth it.

Make-up and accessories added another five. I hit the switch and practically ran down the hallway to the kitchen. My two cats were waiting for me, expressions clearly disgruntled by all of the frantic activity. They sat like twin furry statues on the counter, the picture of disapproval. At first, I didn’t see my phone and figured one or the other was sitting on it. 

Oh no, they weren’t _sitting_ on it. They’d batted it to the floor. I bent over to retrieve the mistreated device and was glad to see it had suffered no serious damage. Still shook a finger at the two of them and scolded them lightly.

“I know you’re upset, but that’s no reason to be jerks.” Nothing but innocent, pouting looks. I sighed. “Be good and try not to burn the house down while I’m gone, okay?”

I really thought I’d make it. Grabbed keys and got downstairs in what _should_ have been enough time to catch the bus I needed. My boots hit the sidewalk just as it pulled away from the stop across the street. I was too late. No way I’d ever make it by midnight if I had to wait for the next bus.

_So I guess I’m not waiting for it and will just have to take alternative transportation._

* * *

Loki stood motionless for several minutes after ending the call with Lilith. Replaying the conversation they’d just had. Thinking about what he’d said. About the _implications_ of what he’d said.

_You’re playing a dangerous game, you know- and a losing one at that._

_Dangerous, yes. But not a_ losing _one._

He smiled wryly at the futile attempt to lie to himself, as it told him just how much trouble he was in. 

Somehow, he’d done what he swore _never_ to do- gotten emotionally attached to a mortal. Be polite? If necessary. Amicable? If the circumstances warranted it. But to actually _care_ about one of them? That he wasn’t supposed to do. And yet Lilith…gods, how long had he been willingly blind to what was happening? Likely longer than he wanted to admit. But however and whenever it was done, that connection had been forged and he wasn’t sure he could undo it.

_Not sure I have the willpower to undo it._

He should. All deception aside, the game _was_ a losing one. _Every_ game ended in a loss when it came to mortals. And the more invested he became, the more he stood to lose. Loki slipped the phone back into his jacket and sighed. Lilith was on her way here; he hoped that by the time she arrived, he would know what he intended to do.

The sound of a fist pounding on glass redirected his attention to the penthouse. Someone had finally come looking for him. The pounding came again, a little louder this time. Loki glanced over his shoulder.

_Well, at least it isn’t Stark._

Thor wasn’t much better. But since his brother didn’t look as though he’d just give up and walk away, Loki released the enchantment on the door and turned back to watch the city. If Thor wanted to talk to him, he’d have to come out here to do it. Which, it seemed, the god was willing to do. He came up on Loki’s right and stood facing him, arms crossed.

“I need to know that you won’t do anything reckless where Stark’s concerned.”

Loki said nothing.

“Not that he doesn’t _deserve_ to get his ass kicked for what he said to you- but you can’t just kill the man, Loki.”

That prompted a response, although Loki still kept his eyes straight ahead. He watched the headlights of the cars below and mused, “Why am I not surprised you came out here to take his side?”

“It’s not about taking a side. It’s about being practical. Like it or not, we need him.”

“I know, Thor. I know.” Loki shot him a sideways glance. “But should he repeat that accusation…”

“He won’t.” They remained silent for a time before his brother asked quietly, “Is it true that you want Lilith?”

Trust Thor to put it so bluntly. Never the one to dance around a subject or circle it with a lot of empty words. Just laid out the question. And that might be fine for him, but Loki didn’t feel obligated to reciprocate with any equal frankness. His answer- if it could be called one- was intentionally evasive as he turned away again.

“She’s a mortal.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But answers the question.”

A hand settled on his shoulder and didn’t let go. He looked at it, then to Thor. Frustration tempered by concern drew the god’s brows together.

“Brother, talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m the only one here who’s going to understand.”

_And isn’t_ that _just a sad state of affairs?_ What was worse, he was right. While not the brightest at times, Thor was still a god. Like Loki, he knew firsthand the chasm that stood between them and mortals. And what awaited anyone foolish enough to try to span it. _Still, I have a feeling I won’t be enjoying this conversation. Or come away with any answers._

“I don’t know how it happened,” he half-whispered to himself, having decided to speak. “I was so sure it could never happen. Not to me.”

“Makes two of us. But since it _has_ …what do you plan to do?”

“Was asking myself that very question before you came out here. I still don’t have an answer.”

Thor leaned against the railing and stared up at the night sky for a long while. Thinking, perhaps, of what he might do in the same predicament. Knowing him, he’d ‘do the right thing’ and walk away. That was just what everyone expected of him. Loki very much doubted anyone thought he’d play by the same rules.

“Does she know?”

Did she? Last month, he would have said definitely not. Up until the fundraiser, he might have been halfway confident in still believing that to be true. Even yesterday. But after what he’d just said to her on the phone…if she didn’t _know_ , Lilith would at least _suspect_.

“Perhaps.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What did she say? Geez- like pulling teeth with you.”

Loki might have delivered a blistering rejoinder, but a split second before he did, the doors to the terrace opened. Cap, Barton and Bruce all stepped onto the flagstones, rendering his answer stillborn. The three of them ambled over to join him and Thor. Unaware of the discussion they’d just interrupted.

_And not a moment too soon._

“So, did the party move out here, or were you two just avoiding the other guests?”

“A little bit of the latter,” Thor replied, surprisingly not giving away the true purpose for being on the terrace. “And the decorations. Stark overdid it in there.”

At the mention of ‘decorations’, the others were quick to agree.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing my damnedest to avoid the hallway,” Barton muttered darkly. “I don’t know _whose_ idea that carpet was, but I’d gladly strangle the culprit.”

Loki bit his tongue and tried to maintain a poker face. Neither Stark nor the crew he hired had any part in designing that particular bit of mischief. Loki had borrowed the idea from a book he’d read. As coincidence would have it, one from the series that had inspired his costume for the evening. Lucky for him, no one had been the wiser that the carpet- and a few other minor surprises- had been incorporated into the _official_ design for the penthouse’s makeover.

“It gets me every time,” Cap admitted ruefully. “Creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Bruce chuckled.

“Thought Pepper was going to climb me like a tree the first time she heard it. Cursed a blue streak- words I don’t think she’s ever used in her life.”

The mental image painted by those words gave him a much needed upswing to his mood, even if he didn’t dare show it. How he would have loved to have seen the calm, collected Pepper Potts so thoroughly rattled. But he supposed hearing the account second-hand was entertainment enough.

_The only one I would have liked to have gotten more would have been-_

“All right, where is that infamous mischief-maker!? I swear I’m going to murder him for that giggling-ass carpet!”

Cap and Bruce had spun around at the sound of Lilith’s outraged voice as it carried clear across the terrace. Hawk and Thor, meanwhile, were staring daggers at Loki. If she didn’t get to him quick, one or both of them were about to get ahead of her in line. The archer shook his head with a derisive snort.

“Might have known it was _your_ doing. I hope she really _does_ murder you.”

When Lilith shoved Cap to the side a second later, Loki seriously thought she might. The woman was visibly irate- and the other four men all took several steps back to get out of the range of fire. Prudent, given that none of them could be certain she didn’t have a firearm in the leather holster at her hip. Loki would have done the same, except pressed up against the balustrade as he was, he really had nowhere to go. That and he was too distracted by the rest of her costume.

Her blonde hair always had a natural wave to it, but she’d done it in corkscrew curls that sprung everywhere. They stood out in contrast against the black leather jacket with three-quarter sleeves. Below the wide belt, she was wearing a black lace skirt over slim black pants and heeled black boots. Lilith hadn’t missed a single detail. He almost didn’t recognize her. The clothes certainly made an impression, but…

“Your hair- how did you get it to do that?”

“Don’t try to change the subject!” Lilith was standing so close that he caught the subtle scent of perfume on her skin. But it was the green fire in her eyes that kept Loki tongue-tied. Eyes that narrowed with suspicion as she demanded, “Is _that_ why you were so keen to get me here? Just to get my reaction to _that_?”

“I- no. No, that had nothing to do with it. I swear.”

Thor and the others looked on, obviously enjoying the spectacle. How the tables had turned. He cast a look to his brother in the vain hope he might be feeling charitable enough to lend his help; he wasn’t. Surprisingly, Cap was.

“C’mon, guys. I think we’ve had enough of a break- let’s head inside.”

“Are you kidding,” Barton protested.

“No, I’m not.”

It took several minutes of arguing, but he managed to convince the other three to vacate the terrace. Leaving Loki to face Lilith alone. She hadn’t broken her stare, hands on hips and clearly wanting some kind of explanation. He still didn’t have one.

_Say something. Anything_.

“I was going to warn you. Really, I was.”

By degrees, her mood shifted from furious to merely annoyed. In the minutes between, Lilith had the opportunity to take in the details of his own costume. She recognized it almost immediately- as he hoped she would- and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Daemon Sadi. An interesting choice.”

“And one that might help my chances of being forgiven for the carpet mishap?”

“Maybe. But I’m still not sure I forgive you for ruining how I’d planned to reveal my costume choice.”

“How was that?”

“No, forget it,” she protested with a shake of her head.

“No, really,” Loki insisted. “What were you going to do?”

Lilith bit her bottom lip, suddenly indecisive. If he didn’t know better, he might think she almost looked embarrassed. But just when he thought she wasn’t going to tell him, she relented.

“Oh all right. But try not to make too much fun at my expense, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“I was rather hoping to catch you unawares somewhere inside, since Stark’s got the place decked out to the nines with that labyrinth theme going on. Sneak up behind you and use River Song’s catchphrase ‘Hello, Sweetie’.”

Make fun of her? Not at _all_ what came to mind when Lilith said those words. _Gods, I like the sound of them way too much for my own good._ Self-preservation kicked in quickly enough to prevent him from saying so aloud. Loki grasped at anything else he could say instead. Nothing came to him. Not a damned thing. So did he just stop trying to fight this? Did he ignore the chasm and seize what he wanted? In his head, he played through every possible outcome. Every possible angle. All in hopes of finding _one_ that wouldn’t end badly for one or both of them.

_There’s only one choice._

“That would have been quite the surprise,” he said, keeping his tone light. “I must congratulate you on how well you’ve captured her character.”

“If you’re this impressed now, you ought to see my TARDIS,” she boasted with a wink.

Loki paused, regarding her intently for a minute. Lilith didn’t waver under his scrutiny. Not quite joking; not quite serious. He honestly didn’t know if she was trying to pass that off as true, or if she was merely playing along with what he’d said about her devotion to acting the part of River Song. Ultimately, he decided it had to be the latter, and shook his head with a bemused chuckle.

“You almost had me for a minute. Excellent delivery. We should try it on some of Stark’s more gullible guests and see if they’ll believe you aren’t making it up.”

For the briefest of seconds, her smile faltered. It came back almost immediately, but not quite as genuine as before. Lilith finger combed the mass of gold curls crowning her head and adjusted her jacket.

“You give me too much credit, I think. No one would believe I’m a Time Lord of Gallifrey.” She took a step backwards. “But let’s go try it, anyway.”

* * *

The evening was late. Nearly midnight. Two of Stark’s guests had gotten turned around and found themselves further down the hallway than they intended.

“I don’t think this was the way to the bathroom,” one said to the other.

“I’m sure it’s one of these doors. Or it was last time I came this way.”

“So which is it?”

“I dunno. Open one and find out.”

The woman tried the handle; it turned easily and the door swung inward. Most of the way. The edge bumped against something solid, stopping it at a sixty-degree angle. Inside, the room was pitch black.

“I don’t think this is it.”

“Turn the light on, just to see.”

She fumbled for a switch and, finding it, flipped it on. An overhead light illuminated the room and confirmed that it was not a bathroom but a small office. The couple didn’t notice the desk with its haphazard pile of newsletters and day planners. Or the giant calendar tacked to the wall. Their attention caught on something far more interesting.

“Whoa- would you look at _that_?”

“I’m looking. What do you suppose it’s doing in _here_? I would have thought Stark would have had it on display.”

“Maybe he stashed it in here on purpose. You know- make people think it’s the real deal.”

“Oh _please_.”

“No, think about it. Someone opens a random door and boom. TARDIS. Right where they least expect it. You saw that woman dressed up as River Song on her way to the terrace a little bit ago.”

“So, what, you think the Doctor will show up next and pretend to rescue us all from an alien invasion?”

“Wouldn’t put it past Stark to set that up. He likes to be known as the best. A stunt like that would have people talking for months.”

“Maybe.” Her hand reached for the light switch. “Let’s go.”

“Hey wait.”

“Why?”

“Take a picture of me standing in front of it, would you?”

“Fine. Just hurry up. After that giggling carpet thing, I seriously have to pee.” A bright flash and the sound of a digital camera shutter. “Okay, got it.”

“Awesome! That’s going right up on Instagram. Hashtag StarkisfriendswithaTimeLord.”


	4. A Lack of Adjustment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six weeks after the Halloween party, Lilith is busy in her office working on the monthly fan newsletter. She's trying to get it finished before day's end, which isn't good news for Nat and Pepper when they come by trying to get her out of the Tower for a while. Thor is trying to do the same with Loki. The God of Mischief has not been at all himself, and so the Thunder god is trying to 'fix' him. Loki just not having any part of it, and ends up walking out on him, Bruce and Cap.
> 
> Back in the penthouse, everyone is in the common room- well almost everyone. Pepper and Stark are offering up the Tower for an intimate Christmas celebration for the team. Well, the team plus friends and family. And when Lilith emerges from her office, she's caught in a tough spot when it turns out the guest list includes her and her family. Only she's got plans. So she says. Loki's no fool, and he knows she's lying. Not only that, but he's certain he knows why she's lying. He'll decide that it's worth the risk to confront her about it before she leaves the Tower. Will he convince Lilith to change her mind, or will she stick to her story?

The day was nearly half over. One of many long days I’d had in the last month and a half. End of the year was a busy time. The holidays cut down on scheduling options, and yet increased the number of requests I received. Everyone wanting to get a piece of the team for their ‘special events’- thinking they were _entitled_ to whatever they wanted of their beloved heroes.

_As if Stark and the rest of the guys don’t have lives of their own or things_ they _want to do for the holiday._

I’d done my best to be fair when vetting the events I brought to the team for their approval. Judging by the vitriol of those whose requests had been denied, not everyone agreed with me on my definition of ‘fair’. The abusive barrage didn’t bother me. I merely created a few rules for the inbox that dumped all of that noise into the trash unread. Left me to review the scores of _legitimate_ inquiries that flowed through non-stop.

“That’s another batch of emails dealt with,” I said to myself with exhausted satisfaction. “Maybe _now_ I can finish the December newsletter like I wanted.”

 _Wanted to have that to the copy editors on_ Wednesday _, but we see how well_ that _went._

Muttering about how I could really use a full-time assistant, I pulled up the draft file and reached for a stack of letters culled out of this month’s correspondence. While I’d finished most of the layouts on Monday, the last page still contained placeholders. I blocked them in for the ‘shout-out from our fans’ section. A place where I could highlight experiences fans had with the team. Tried to get one story for each of them every month.

Which meant asking the Avengers for their help. I never read their letters. My job was to sort and check them for anything malicious. Definitely did not see it as my responsibility- or my business- to read the contents on their behalf. So I’d tasked each of them with providing me with one letter a month that they felt deserved recognition. A request that had been met with grumbles from more than one.

_Although primarily one,_ I added silently as I rifled through the stack. _Half the time, I never even get anything from_ him _._

Last month, I didn’t chase him down for one. After the disappointing outcome of the Halloween party, things hadn’t been quite right between Loki and me. We’d managed to bluff our way through the party itself, but I noticed the change in our dynamic the very next day. Awkward. Uncomfortable. A host of unpleasant adjectives that I could rattle off with ease. And since it was mostly my own fault, I thought it best to let all of that settle for a few months. Try to get things back to normal again after the New Year.

_Oh but you know it won’t be- no matter how long you wait. You did it again. Misread signals that you_ should _have had the good sense not to act on even if they_ had _turned out to be the ones you’d thought them to be._

My cheeks warmed at the censure. They were well-deserved. I _should_ have been more cautious. Whatever reason Loki had for his increased friendliness leading up to Halloween, it hadn’t been the one I’d suspected. I must have read too much into it and ended up making a fool of myself. In truth, I’d done more than that- I’d damn near given myself away. What had I been thinking to mention the TARDIS to Loki?

 _Suppose he’d taken me at my word and wanted to_ see _it- what would I have done_ then _?_

A question in no need of an answer. He’d believed my comment to be a clever part of the ‘River Song’ character and nothing more. Just like what I’d told him about how I thought to reveal my choice of costume. He hadn’t heard the kernel of truths embedded in my words either time. Probably better that way. I really couldn’t afford the complication of being more than a friend to someone- let alone to the God of Mischief. It made things…complicated.

_And you don’t do well with complicated, do you?_

I chose to ignore that question, concentrating on the task at hand. Cap’s letter was at the top of the pile. He’d done me the courtesy of using an adhesive memo flag to mark the appropriate section for me. Meant I didn’t have to review the whole letter to find what I was looking for- which was greatly appreciated. Before long, I’d gotten to the bottom of the stack. Had to do a double take when I saw the last letter. Sure enough, it was addressed to Loki.

_I’ll be damned. He actually submitted one without an argument._

That might have been surprising in and of itself, but then I noted the name of the sender and my curiosity only intensified. Todd Wasserman. That rang a bell immediately, conjuring up an image of bright red hair and a generous sprinkling of freckles. Not a face I was bound to forget any time soon. The boy had made quite the impression at the Halloween charity event Stark had sprung on everyone two months ago. Enough of one that even Loki must have remembered him.

With a bemused smile, I skimmed over Todd’s letter to the god. Unlike Cap, he had not marked anything in particular, so I had to do the guesswork for myself. I looked for a snippet I could excerpt and drop into the newsletter. But the more I read, the harder it became to pick just one thing. Even had to start from the beginning to really _read_ it all the way through.

I was still reading when I heard my door open. Startled, my head jerked up from a page of childish scrawl to see Pepper and Nat stroll through. They were both wearing coats and scarves. I checked my watch and noted that it was noon already. Likely on their way out for lunch and stopped by in case I wanted something. Not uncommon for them to do that.

“Hey,” I greeted them casually, shuffling the pile on my desk. And because I always enjoyed the answer, I asked, “So who won the debate of where to eat today?”

Nat’s expression turned slightly smug. “I did. We’re going to Potjanee.”

“Thai food. Pepper, you must be losing your touch to let her con you into that one.”

“I’ll be sure to get payback for it.”

“Hmm. Somehow I don’t think you’re going to get Nat to eat Greek food. You’ve only been trying for all of the three years I’ve known you. Probably longer than that, even.”

“Tomorrow’s another day.”

“I look forward to seeing you succeed.”

“Never in a million years,” Nat quipped. “But that’s not really why we’re here. I know you enjoy pad Thai, and thought you might want to come with us.”

I might have, if I wasn’t buried in work. And if I didn’t suspect they were using the invitation as an opportunity to discuss Loki. Since the Halloween party, I’d managed to evade any attempt to box me into talking about what happened on the terrace. Accepting a lunch invitation like this one was like walking right into a trap. I was not about to fall for it.

Trying to look regretful, I shook my head and held up Todd’s letter.

“Gotta get the final layouts of the newsletter to the copy editors by end of day, so I’m stuck here until I hammer that out.”

Pepper made a face at the mention of work and coaxed, “Are you _sure_ you can’t take a half hour or so? How much do you have left?”

“Well…”

Mistake. I should have been firmer in my response, even if it meant telling a lie. Hedging opened the door for them to press harder. I winced inwardly when I saw the look in Nat’s eye. She was going to use that opening, no question.

“Doesn’t sound like it’s all that much to me. So grab your coat and let’s go.”

“I really can’t.”

“Yes you can.” She hooked a finger under my scarf, which I’d draped over a chair and tossed it at me. “C’mon, then.”

“No, really. I can’t.”

This time, Pepper chimed in to say, “You almost _never_ leave this office anymore.”

“It’s always like this the last few months of the year. Things will calm down first week of January.”

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s the nature of the beast, Pepper.”

Neither she nor Nat truly believed that, but they let the subject drop, anyway. And since nothing they could say would convince me to go with them, the pair decided to take their leave. Pepper left first, but the latter lingered in the doorway for a full minute before following her out. She wasn’t done with me yet, and I dreaded whatever she was about to say.

“If you wanted to punish him for whatever did- or _didn’t_ \- happen at Halloween, you’ve more than accomplished what you set out to do.”

“That’s not-” I held back the rest of my protest. And although I knew it was likely too late to pretend I didn’t know who she meant, I offered her a nonchalant, “I figured I’d punished Stark enough by extracting that promise out of him.”

Nat just stared at me. Reading more into that answer than if I’d just gone with a straight denial. Finally, she replied, “And if you’re _not_ punishing him, maybe you ought to consider why Loki is taking it that way.”

She slipped out into the hall, leaving me with that question to ponder- Todd’s letter still in hand. My gaze fell to the page, rereading the boy’s tale of meeting the God of Mischief for the first time. The apprehension. The excitement. The thrill of an adult who hadn’t talked down to him or pandered to him just because he was sick. How glad he’d been that I’d urged him to go talk to Loki in the first place- to take a risk.

_If only I was willing to follow my own advice,_ I thought as I set the pages on my desk with a heartfelt sigh. _But I’m just not a risk taker. Not anymore._

* * *

Thor sat across from his brother in a midtown café, trying to keep conversation afloat until the others arrived. Not exactly something he excelled at doing. Of the two of them, Loki had always been known for being the witty conversationalist. Even in less than agreeable company. But his brother had become less and less social ever since the Halloween party at the Tower. The first few days had seemed normal, but as the weeks dragged on, the god spent increasing amounts of his time in his room. Alone.

He avoided the terrace almost completely.

Everyone had their own theories about what had been discussed when Loki and Lilith had been alone out there. Theories. No one knew for certain. Not even Thor. He hadn’t been able to discover what his brother might have said to the mortal. Or what she might have said in return. One thing he and the whole team could agree upon- _something_ had happened between them.

_And it’s tearing him apart._

Which was why he and the others thought it would be a good idea to get him out of the Tower for the afternoon. Loki hadn’t been out of the penthouse in weeks, so Thor enlisted the help of Cap and Bruce to give him a reason to drag his brother out of his suite. Didn’t do any good if the god sat there like a statue. Thor tried to sound cheerful as he tried again to get Loki’s attention.

“Isn’t this better than to be stuck in the Tower all day?” Loki regarded him over the rim of his tea and shrugged. Didn’t even make an effort to respond before returning his attention to the street outside. Thor doubted he even saw the parade of people on the busy sidewalk. At the end of his patience, he finally queried, “Are you _ever_ going to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I would think the answer to that question would be obvious,” his brother replied between sips. “I do not wish to talk about it.”

“So you’re just going to sulk in your room because you couldn’t get your way.”

Loki cut him a murderous glare, just as Stark said he would. He’d been the one to suggest that Thor try this approach to draw out the truth. Something about reverse psychology. After six unsuccessful weeks of trying every tactic he knew, Thor was ready to take the mortal’s advice. He suspected his brother didn’t pursue his interest in Lilith, and was now kicking himself for having wasted the opportunity. Especially in light of the woman’s immediate withdrawal from the team following the party. Maybe _this_ would get him talking. But Loki’s glare fizzled almost as quickly as it had sprung up, replaced by a sharp smile.

“Transparent, Brother. _Very_ transparent. You’ll have to do much better if you hope to outsmart me.”

“I’m not trying to outsmart you,” Thor contested in sheer frustration. “I’m trying to _help_ you.”

“As I’ve told you before- I don’t need it.”

“Well, you need _something_ , Loki.”

He’d said that a little louder than he intended. Loud enough that others in the room had heard them. Thankfully, the tables nearest them had remained empty, but a few customers across the dining room traded nervous glances and whispered amongst themselves. They sat in tense silence for several minutes. Long enough for the waitress to breeze by their table, refill their drinks and hurry off again. Finally, Loki set his cup in its saucer and folded his hands on the table linen.

“It’ll pass, Thor. A temporary affliction that will run its course.”

It was a lie and they both knew it.

But his opportunity to call him out on it was cut short as Cap and Bruce approached the table.

“You two arrived early,” the latter announced.

“And I see you’ve been out making good use of the holiday season,” he answered with equal good humor, nodding to the carry bag in Cap’s left hand.

He shifted his chair to make room for the other two at the table. They shrugged out of their coats and took their seats while the blonde super soldier stowed the bag near his feet. He gave Thor a slightly sheepish smile.

“Figured I’d get it out of the way early this year and finish my shopping before the crowds got unbearable.”

“Hate to tell you, but mid-December is hardly early,” Bruce said. “Pepper started hers around September. Maybe August.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re trying to find a gift for the man who has just about everything, I can see needing the extra time.”

Their conversation continued on for some time, interrupted only when the waitress returned to take orders for drinks and food. Not that she didn’t have it all memorized at this point, having been their particular waitress for over a year. Whenever they came in, Anna was always on shift to take care of their table. The routine was a convenience, as it meant she was well used to them and didn’t get nervous. Or worse, fawn over them with the cloying attention of the fangirls.

There were few places in the city they could go and expect to be left in relative peace; this was one of them. As evident when a group of would-be fans tried to crowd the table for autographs or pictures. The café manager had them all ushered out of the establishment with a warning that they could be barred permanently if they bothered _any_ of the café’s patrons again. Thor caught the man’s eye and made a sign of his appreciation before turning to Cap and Bruce.

“Still baffles me- the almost crazed frenzy that comes over mortals. It makes no sense.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Cap commiserated. “I’ve found all of it equally confusing. The absolute mania…”

“You’re lucky that you went back to Asgard the first year. The team spent weeks at a time in the Tower just to avoid the fans. Lobby was full of them all day _every_ day for months. It was miserable.”

“I can imagine. Was still overwhelming when we did come back.”

Bruce nodded, reaching for his glass.

“Stark might’ve gotten a handle on things at the Tower, but it wasn’t until Lilith became the team’s publicist that we could breathe a little easier around the city.”

At the mention of her name, all eyes shifted to Loki, who hadn’t spoken a word since the two arrived. On his part, the god showed no reaction to hearing it- or any of the conversation- and continued to stare absently out the window. The rest of them might as well have not been present. For once, Thor didn’t think his brother meant it as an intentional sleight.

The two mortals motioned discreetly at Loki, a look of question and concern evident in their expressions. Thor shook his head, at a loss what to say. After a stretch of silence, his brother rose from the table and left without even bidding them farewell.

“I take it he wouldn’t talk to you,” Cap ventured the moment Loki left. “Bruce and I dawdled as long as we dared to give you the chance to ask, but…”

“You’re right. Still won’t say a damned word. Well, he tried to tell me it was nothing. Said it’ll pass.”

They exchanged dubious looks, believing that no more than Thor had.

“Have you tried talking to Lilith?” At his grim frown, Cap’s hopeful tone fell flat. “You did, huh.”

“She’s even more stubborn than Loki, and that was something I didn’t think possible.”

“Maybe if you had one of the ladies try?”

“Pepper and Nat have been trying their best, but they haven’t had much luck with her. They’re going to try to invite Lilith out to lunch today- I’m hoping it works this time.”

Their meals arrived, providing a much need break. Thor set to devouring his sandwich with enthusiasm while the others did the same. Half of it- along with a decent portion of French fries- were gone when Bruce offered up a question.

“Should we just let this alone? I mean, it’s really none of our business.”

He hated to admit that the man might be right. Loki’s personal life really wasn’t his affair. He had a right to live it as he saw fit. But Thor couldn’t stand seeing his brother so miserable. Not if he thought it could be mended.

_So what if it is? What if he and Lilith_ do _work things out? It’ll only be that much_ worse _for him when it ends._ Thor cast a faraway look to the street. _One way or another._

“I don’t know, Bruce. I really don’t know.”

* * *

Pepper cast an eager look around the room, making mental notes on who was and wasn’t present. Clint was on his way- held up by business with Fury. Or so his apologetic text message said. Thor sat with Steve and Bruce. They’d been the first to arrive after her and Nat, which had given them the opportunity to relay how things had gone with Lilith. She wished that she’d had good news on that subject, but they hadn’t been able to convince her to get out of the Tower.

_Well, at least it meant I didn’t have to eat Thai food._

Nat swore that she could convince Lilith to go with them, and so Pepper had agreed to go to Potjanee. But _only_ if she succeeded. In the end, the woman had stuck to her story about being too busy. Same excuse she’d given a half dozen times in as many weeks. Whatever trick Nat thought she could use to draw her out this time didn’t work; she wouldn’t say what she’d said to Lilith after Pepper walked out. Just that it hadn’t produced the desired outcome.

Speaking of Lilith- she wasn’t here, either. Nor was Loki, in point of fact. The former’s whereabouts were no mystery, but she looked to Thor for answers on the latter’s, querying casually, “Can we expect your brother shortly?”

“He knew about the meeting. As to whether he’s coming.” Thor lifted his shoulders in an artless shrug. “I wouldn’t wait on him.”

“Didn’t he go out with you three for lunch?”

“He left early.”

No one felt entirely comfortable in hearing that the god was on his own in the city. Loki wasn’t _required_ to have an escort- not for well over a year- but in his present state of mind…

“Any ideas where he went?”

Pepper could tell by Thor’s slightly chagrined look that he didn’t have any idea at all. Loki could be anywhere in the city. Or have left it altogether. To have not at least _asked_ where he was going had been a serious oversight on his part. But then, Steve and Bruce had been with him at the time and hadn’t asked, either.

She considered canceling the meeting in favor of locating the god. What she wanted to discuss could wait until they knew what had become of him. Before she could make the suggestion, though, Loki and Clint entered the room from the direction of the hallway. The archer crossed the room quickly and perched in his customary chair. He spared Pepper a somewhat guilty glance.

“Sorry. Fury was on the rampage about S.H.I.E.L.D. business. I finally told him I had to go.”

A much more contrite attitude from the last meeting she called. Threats of being put in charge of a decorating committee did wonders in changing his outlook. Pepper smiled at him and gestured to the empty seats.

“We hadn’t gotten started yet.”

She thought Loki might have kept on walking, but a sharp look from Thor must have convinced him to stay. He chose a seat nearest to the kitchen- one that kept his back to the terrace- and sank into it with obvious reluctance. That left Lilith as the last absentee. Pepper debated the wisdom of fetching her from her office, but seeing the strained wariness in Loki’s hooded expression made her think better of it.

“All right- we’re all here, so I think we’ll get started.”

Nat and a few others raised quizzical eyebrows, silently asking after the only missing member of the group. Pepper pretended not to notice. It was enough to keep them from asking about Lilith. For _most_ of them, anyway.

“Hey, aren’t we-”

“We’ve only got a few weeks until Christmas,” she began smoothly, cutting Tony off mid-sentence. “Aside from a few small events and parties on the calendar, we’ve kept the last two weeks of December mostly open.”

Actually, _Lilith_ had been the one to turn down anything for the second half of the month. She’d been firm with Tony when he’d tried to coax her into relaxing the policy. Told him he was free to commit himself to anything he wished, but that she wouldn’t allow him to encroach on anyone else’s holiday. And while she didn’t say it outright, but they both knew she was thinking of his decision to host that charity event for Halloween.

“Thor- were you and Loki planning to go back to Asgard at all? It’s been a long time since you were back home.”

_And maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to get Loki away from the Tower._

The Thunder god shook his head, his reply one of mixed feeling. He said, “That it has been, but Heimdall’s not due to open the Bifrost for another few months. So it looks as though we’ll be spending Christmas on Midgard.”

“Tony and I are more than happy to have you.” She widened her invitation to include the others. “And that goes for the rest of you. I know in most years we’ve all gone separate ways for the holiday, but you’re all welcome to stay. In fact, that’s what I wanted to discuss.”

They all watched her expectantly.

“Unless anyone had definite plans, I was thinking to invite you to celebrate Christmas here- you and any personal friends or family. Nothing extravagant- and no politicking,” she added with a pointed look at Tony. She’d already emphasized that to him in private, but repeated it now for good measure. “Just something for the team.”

Overall, the idea was received positively. Since they’d formed, the team had knit closer together with every passing year. For some of them, the Tower and those living in it had become almost as close as family. Steve, for instance. He’d woken up to find most of the family he’d known in his previous life had passed on- or weren’t quite comfortable around him. And Bruce had his own issues that made it difficult to become close to people.

After some discussion, everyone got on board with Pepper’s idea. Well, _most_ everyone. She didn’t hear anything outright against it from Loki, but she could tell he was less than thrilled about facing another party here in the Tower. Especially given how the _last_ one ended. The god knew he was out-voted, though, and kept his objections- and his reasons- to himself.

They were ironing out some details about potential guests and such when Pepper realized one additional member had joined the discussion. Rather, had unintentionally walked into the middle of it and now sought to extricate herself before anyone noticed. Lilith’s hopes were dashed, however, when Tony of all people saw her.

“Lilith, doll- you finally get sick of looking at the four walls of your office?”

His question cut through the chatter of voices and shone the spotlight of attention in her direction. Conversations died as everyone waited for her answer. Lilith fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the whole team.

“I- uh…was just going to let you know the monthly newsletter’s down with the copy editors before I headed out.” She retreated a step in the direction of the hall. “But you’re all busy, so I’ll leave you to-”

“Huh uh. You’re not bailing out of this, so park it over there, doll.”

“I’ve got-”

“ _Sit_.”

More than a little disgruntled, Lilith obeyed. Like everyone else, she’d learned it was easier to comply than to waste her breath arguing about it, though she did venture to ask, “And what is ‘this’, exactly?”

“We’re discussing the subject of Christmas.”

Lilith regarded Tony with suspicion.

“If I find out you’ve browbeaten the team into another fundraiser…”

“Nothing of the sort. I didn’t even have anything to do with this- just ask Pepper.”

The woman cast an inquiring look at her.

“It’s true. We’re keeping it simple this year. Tower residents, family and close friends only.”

“Sounds like you all will have a good time, then.” She made as if to rise. “Just let me know if you want to pencil any hard dates onto the shared calendar for reminders or whatever and I’ll set them up.”

“Woman, sit,” Tony ordered, exasperated. “How many times am I going to have to tell you?”

While she mumbled something under her breath about what could happen to snarky billionaires, Pepper tried to get the conversation back on track, adding quickly, “Lilith, you’re of course invited. Your family, too, if they’re able to come.”

She wasn’t sure what kind of response she’d get to that. Lilith never spoke of home or her family. Not in all the years she’d been working for them. Pepper had wondered more than once if they had been killed in an accident- or worse, in the attacks on New York four years ago. This was one of the few opportunities she might have to find out.

“Oh, well- I appreciate the offer.”

_But?_ Pepper already heard the beginnings of the unsaid half of that sentence. No one ever opened with a phrase like that without expressing some kind of regret or decline by the time they finished speaking. From Loki’s expression, he expected the same thing. _Question is- will he be upset or relieved to hear it?_

“But I have plans. Made them a while ago and they’re not local. The box will be set on auto-reply for the time I’m out, and I’ve got the Twitter account and website covered. I don’t expect anything urgent to come through that would need anyone’s attention. At least not before I’m back the day after New Year’s.”

Alarm flashed through her as Pepper listened to the woman’s rushed speech. It sounded like…

“Were you leaving _today_?”

“No. Oh no. Wednesday.” This time when she stood up, everyone was too stunned to have the presence of mind to stop her. “As I said, it’s all covered. But we can talk Monday. I don’t want to hijack your meeting over all that.”

“But, Lilith-”

She was gone. Presumably back to her office. Pepper couldn’t help feeling that the woman had just run away from them.

* * *

“Well, that was a bit odd,” Barton remarked. “Leaving for two weeks and doesn’t mention it until now. Very odd.”

It wasn’t odd. It was a flat out _lie_.

Lilith didn’t have any plans at all, least of all anything that wasn’t in the city. She’d made all of it up as an excuse not to attend the party. And she’d known full well that he would _know_ she was lying when she did it. Loki almost wondered if that wasn’t the point- let him know she’d rather spend Christmas alone than to be around him. After all, hadn’t she’d spent the last six weeks avoiding him whenever possible?

_You started it by avoiding her first._

He had. After Lilith went home after the party, he’d remained awake all night. Thinking. By the time dawn came, Loki had come to the decision he ought to put some space between them. Stay away from Lilith for a little while in the hope that she wouldn’t think anything of what he’d said that night. Pass it off as if they’d both gotten carried away with portraying their respective characters. Try to get back to the professional attitude he’d had with her for most of the past three years.

_But that backfired, didn’t it?_

_Yes, yes it did._

Loki hadn’t been able to stay away for long- a handful of days at most. He’d missed the companionship of being around Lilith. And even though it would be torture to limit himself to a platonic relationship, that was still far better than not seeing her at all. Only when he’d tried to rebuild their friendship, Loki had gotten an unpleasant surprise. He was too late; Lilith had shut him out.

Her office door remained closed for the majority of the day. Locked more often than not. She didn’t spend time in the common rooms and went straight home after she finished work. Any questions or correspondence related to that work happened only by email; Lilith didn’t talk to any of them in person- Loki in particular. Half the time, he never knew when she came and went. Almost as if she’d been a figment of their imagination. A ghost that haunted the penthouse.

No one would say to his face that it was his fault, but they all knew Loki was to blame for the change in her behavior. Just as he was the reason why she would avoid the Tower during Christmas. Unless Loki was willing to do something about it. Meaning he’d have to talk to her- quickly. No guarantee she would return on Monday as promised, making now was his best chance.

_Because we both know you’ve already lost count of how many hours you’ve stood outside her apartment, unable to ring the bell. So you won’t be talking to her_ there _, will you?_

Loki rose from his chair without speaking a word to anyone and headed in the direction she had gone. He tried not to hear any of the hushed comments that marked his passing. Definitely ignored the borderline insolent query from Stark. Just kept walking until he came to Lilith’s office.

Her door was partially ajar; Loki pushed it open and stood just inside. Lilith appeared to be packing up her things. It took her a moment or two to realize someone was watching her. When she looked up and saw who, she nearly dropped the laptop she had been stuffing into a shoulder bag. He didn’t wait for her to ask why he was there.

“You lied.”

Lilith’s gaze dropped to her hands.

“I know.”

He didn’t ask the next question; didn’t have to- just had to stand in expectant silence. She picked up the long scarf she always wore in the winter and wound it around her neck. Stalling. Loki waited her out until she had no choice but to answer the unspoken question. He wasn’t moving out of her way until she did, and Lilith knew it.

“Christmas isn’t the easiest time of year for me, and I’d just rather not make it complicated.”

A truthful answer, but vague. Not satisfied, he prompted her to be more specific as he echoed, “Complicated.”

“You heard Pepper- friends and _family_.”

“And?”

“And you already know that I’m not on the best terms with my parents. I really don’t want to deal with questions from everyone about why mine aren’t there.”

Evasive. A reason, but not _the_ reason. She was using her family as a convenient excuse. He highly doubted that the trouble with her family was concern enough to chase her out of the Tower. Disappointed in her choices or not, Loki gambled that her parents wouldn’t begrudge her Christmas. But in case he was wrong…

“Is the rift really so great that you can’t share Christmas with one another?”

At the mention of the word ‘rift’, Lilith drew a sharp inward breath and let it out again. She didn’t respond for what seemed a long time. When she did, it wasn’t exactly what he’d expected.

“Yes.”

True. And false. Loki really didn’t like that he was not able to take a definitive reading of her answers. Did not like it at all.

_What did you expect her to do? Did you_ expect _honesty when you aren’t willing to give her the same?_

_It was for the best._

And those were the same words he’d been repeating to himself for nearly six weeks; it was no easier to accept them now than it had been the first time. As much as he would like to ignore them and reopen the door to his decision, Loki fought back that temptation. His eyes caught on the stack of papers sitting on the corner of her desk. On the very top page in particular- a letter from a precocious, red-headed little boy.

Todd Wasserman.

The business of reading fan mail wasn’t high on his list of priorities. Occasionally, Loki would peruse the stacks Lilith dropped in his box. Usually in search of a measure of entertainment in what his so-called ‘fans’ thought he would want to know about them. He rarely took any of it seriously, and she was always after him to participate in the monthly newsletter.

_Except last month,_ he noted with regret. _She sent the one email announcement to the whole team about the due date, but didn’t corner me for anything when I didn’t respond._

Just as well she hadn’t, though; he didn’t even _look_ at his box in all of November. Which was why he hadn’t seen the boy’s letter until he finally emptied his box last week. Loki’s curiosity had been piqued enough to actually read it. And while he’d had to grit his teeth at times to parse out the boy’s atrocious handwriting, he’d actually found the correspondence meant something to him.

_Maybe because it actually sounded like he was talking to_ me _instead of a caricature of what he_ thinks _I am._

So when Lilith sent out the email for this month’s newsletter, Loki didn’t brush it off. Had been the first one to deliver his, in point of fact. What she’d thought of that he couldn’t say. But it offered him a moment of temporary distraction while he figured out what he wanted to say about her plans- or lack thereof- for the holiday.

“You’re through with those, I imagine,” he speculated with a nod to the stack of letters.

Lilith’s gaze followed his to her desk.

“So long as the copy editors don’t reject the page and make me start all over, yes, I guess I am.”

“May I have mine back?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“The letter from Todd- I’d like it back if you’ve finished with what you needed.”

If she was surprised to hear Loki say so, her expression didn’t betray it. Lilith gathered up the pages and crossed the room to extend them to him. He didn’t accept the letter immediately, forcing her to look him in the eye- which she did, albeit somewhat grudgingly. She tried to offer them to him again.

“Were you going to...?”

Loki didn’t know what he’d intended to say; the words he _did_ say left of their own accord.

“Spend Christmas in the Tower, Lilith,” he entreated her earnestly. “Whatever the complications are- they’re not worth isolating yourself in that apartment for the next two weeks.”

Lilith’s brow furrowed. Not in anger or confusion, but with an expression Loki couldn’t quite decipher. Or at least one he couldn’t- or _wouldn’t_ \- name. In the silent minutes that passed between them, he could almost hear her demand ‘ _how_ dare _you ask me that_ ’. She didn’t, of course. Didn’t say anything. Merely shoved the letter into his hands as she edged around him to escape.

“Lilith.”

“I can’t,” she insisted with a backward glance over her shoulder. “I really can’t.”

She didn’t give him time to argue or ask questions, disappearing down the hallway in the direction of the elevators. Loki could have pursued her; he chose not to. Just stood half-in the doorway of her office, watching as Lilith stepped into the elevator and, in essence, fled the Tower.

_It’s for the best._


	5. Catch and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith's at home trying to decide whether she's headed in to the Tower as promised...or not. Given the conversation she had with Loki in the previous chapter, you can imagine why she's leaning more on the 'not' side. Pushed further that direction when Pepper wants to know why she's not there. The outcome of their conversation gives rise to serious concerns on Pepper and Stark's side. Concern enough to contemplate that the Reader might not come back to the Tower, even though she said she would. Their discussion will be interrupted by Loki, and Stark will corner him into telling the truth about what happened on Halloween.
> 
> Lilith has decided to get out of New York. As Time Lord of Gallifrey, it's not hard to do. She'll skip town in her TARDIS, headed for the picturesque city of Salzburg for a Christmas holiday to think and pull herself together. Only after she arrives, she makes a discovery that threatens to complicate what was supposed to be a simple vacation. Complications like the Doctor. Salzburg is being plagued by a rash of mysterious disappearances lately, and so the Tenth Doctor and Donna Noble are already in the city to investigate.

My alarm woke me out of a fitful sleep. I groped blindly at the nightstand on my left, unwilling to make a better effort to get out of bed. As a result, it took several times before I successfully found my phone and shut off the damned thing. Not that doing so meant I was any more inclined to move. Instead, I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Debating what I would do.

_You said you’d be in today._

_Circumstances have changed since then._

_Meaning since that conversation in your office._

_Yes._

I’d known Loki would be able to tell that I’d lied to Pepper. Never _dreamed_ he would confront me about it. After all, we’d spent the last six weeks avoiding one another. The _last_ thing I expected was that he’d follow me back to my office, or I would have left straight from the living room. Would have meant I’d have to come back for my things later. Easy enough- slip in late and back out before anyone was the wiser. _Anything_ to have avoided that conversation.

_Especially that_ last _part._

To ask me to stay. In _that_ tone. 

It was his enigmatic phone call all over again- the one that had gotten us into this mess. The tone that tricked me into thinking that maybe Loki wanted more, even though I’d already learned the hard way that he _didn’t_. It wasn’t fair that he could do that to me. This time I hadn’t let it reel me in, and resisted the entreaty to stay. Resisted the temptation of repeating the same mistake from Halloween.

Pale morning light filtered through the curtains. If I was going to catch the bus to get to the Tower, I’d better move. And yet I remained where I was. Lingered long enough that Salem and Joel came to investigate why I hadn’t risen to fill their bowls. Ever reminding me of what tasks were _truly_ important. As I scratched behind their ears- one hand per cat- I came to a decision.

_Nope. Not going in._

In fact, quite the opposite.

“Maybe I do get out of town for a while, huh,” I put to Joel, who’d climbed up to nuzzle against my shoulder. More than likely, to chew on my hair, too, if he thought he could get away with it. “What do you think?”

He stared at me with impassive gold-green eyes, clearly not impressed by the idea. I sat up, pushing the very disgruntled kitty off me. His tail twitched in annoyance as he sat on the rumpled cranberry duvet next to Salem. They watched me expectantly until I drew back the covers and set my feet to the floor. Might as well get up. Both of them hopped down with a jingle of their collars, twining around my ankles.

“Okay, guys. Give me room to move or you’ll get stepped on.”

They backed off. A _little_. Enough for me to cross the room to my closet and put on a pair of grey slacks and a knit tee-shirt. Over the latter, I shrugged into a moss-colored cardigan. Comfortable clothes- ones meant for traveling. I grabbed a pair of knee socks and pulled them on before heading to the bathroom. The cats, naturally, followed close behind. 

While the two of them perched vigilantly on the vanity countertop, I made myself presentable to the world. Once or twice, Joel batted my hairbrush into the sink. Clearly impatient with the delay to his mealtime. Salem, meanwhile, contented himself with pacing back and forth on the narrow porcelain rim of the sink, rubbing against my midsection when he passed. Getting fur all over my clothes, no doubt.

“All right,” I announced with a measure of exasperation as I switched off the light. “Let’s go get you two something to eat before you starve to death.”

The cats leapt from the counter and bounded down the hallway towards the kitchen; they didn’t need to be told twice. By the time I got there, the two of them had positioned themselves at their respective bowls. Four dainty white paws lined up in a neat row; two pair of green eyes staring up at me. Salem, though, took point this morning to do the talking for both, letting out the most pathetically adorable “miaow”.

“Master manipulators, the both of you,” I groused with a crooked smile of bemusement. I scooped a half-cup of kibbles into their bowls and spooned a bit of canned food over them. “Okay, there you go your royal highnesses. Breakfast.”

And while the cats were busy with theirs, I supposed I ought to get some for myself. Though the state of the refrigerator suggested I wouldn’t be getting much. Hadn’t been grocery shopping this week, so it was a tad bare. Essentials, mostly. A few eggs, a half-stick of butter and- if I was lucky- a pint of milk. I thought of what I could do with that. Preferably something quick and easy.

_Pancakes it is._

I was just flipping the last one in the skillet when I heard my phone chirp at me from the table in my breakfast nook. A glance at the microwave to my left told me it was almost eight-thirty. Late enough that I was sure _someone_ had noticed I wasn’t there yet. Sliding the golden-brown pancake atop the rest of the stack, I carried my plate over to the table and set it down. My phone lie next to it; I dreaded picking it up

_Just get this over with._

I woke the display and read the text message. Pepper, thankfully, and not who I _feared_ it might have been.

_And why would you think_ he’d _be texting you?_

Rather than answer that question, I answered Pepper’s.

**{Lilith 12/17/2018 08:26:11 AM}:** Hey- sorry. Everything’s fine.

**{Pepper 12/17/2018 08:27:24 AM}:** Were you coming in late, then?

**{Lilith 12/17/2018 08:27:57 AM}:** Um, no. Will have to work from home today- and likely tomorrow, too.

**{Pepper 12/17/2018 08:28:16 AM}:** What about the out of office stuff? You said we’d go over it today.

She really wasn’t going to let up. I leaned my elbows on the table and texted back, fingers typing rapidly on the digital keyboard. With any hope, I could convince her that we didn’t have anything to discuss. And we didn’t. The box and the website could take care of themselves over the next two weeks. And if I had to, I could monitor the Twitter account while I was away. None of it required anything from the team.

**{Lilith 12/17/2018 08:28:40 AM}:** It’s taken care of, really. I left the office computer on, but with everything on auto-pilot, there shouldn’t be a need for anyone to touch anything until I get back.

**{Pepper 12/17/2018 08:29:03 AM}:** And the newsletter?

**{Lilith 12/17/2018 08:29:36 AM}:** Got the email yesterday afternoon- it’s gone to print. All set.

I thought I might have succeeded, as she didn’t press me with more questions. Had almost set the phone down to eat breakfast, but then it rang. With a heavy sigh, I picked up.

“Do you really have plans?”

“Yes, of course I do. Why?”

“Because it’s not like you to give such short notice on when you’ll be out for an extended time.”

_Think fast._

“I didn’t know until late last week that everything would go through,” I told her. Sort of the truth, but mostly not. I felt bad for doing it, but not enough to guilt me into providing her with a more accurate answer. “If it had, I would have mentioned it sooner, Pepper.”

“You’re _sure_?” she prodded. Must have called from the safety of her office- or at least I _hoped_ so, because her next words weren’t something I would have wanted said up in the penthouse. “You’re _sure_ this sudden trip doesn’t have anything to do with Loki?”

I couldn’t trust that she’d believe me if I lied in replying to _that_ question, and so I did the next best thing. I dodged it.

“I’m catching up with any old friend that I haven’t seen in forever. Simple as that.”

“And working from home today and tomorrow- that doesn’t have anything to do with him, either, I suppose. Or with the way he left the meeting Friday and headed straight for your office?”

I stared at the spice rack on the opposite wall, silent. Unable to think of anything to say. Rather, anything I _wanted_ to say that wouldn’t make the situation worse than it was. How long I stood that way, I couldn’t say, but eventually, Pepper’s patience ran out.

“Lilith?”

“I can’t do this.”

The words came unbidden, and prompted her to ask, “Are you quitting?”

“No.”

“Then…?”

“I’ll be back on the second. I’ll resolve this by then.”

“But-”

“Merry Christmas, Pepper. Wish the team the same from me, would you? And don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

I hung up and turned the phone off.

* * *

The line went dead.

Tony traded a concerned look with Pepper, and watched on silently as she tried redialing Lilith’s number. He heard it go straight to voicemail. Meaning the woman had shut off her phone- or, at best, had set it to ‘do not disturb’. Not the most encouraging of omens, given what she just said.

“Do you think we ought to send someone over there to check on her,” Pepper asked worriedly. “Maybe Steve, or…”

“Darlin’, I think the best thing we can do for Lilith now is to leave her be.”

“But clearly, she’s upset.”

“And I don’t see how forcing company on her is going to help with that. If she needs time alone, then I say we let her have it.”

Pepper traced the edges of her phone with her fingertips and sighed. She didn’t answer him, but instead, looked around the cluttered office. Her gaze lingered for some time on the screensaver as it shuffled through a series of random images; Lilith set it to pull from artwork sent in by their fans. Some, he had to admit, were quite ingenious. Not to mention hilarious. Like whoever thought to draw the team as owls. Tony’s mouth curved involuntarily as the artist’s rendition of Hulk as a disgruntled, green owl filled the screen.

“Suppose she doesn’t come back in January,” she asked, reclaiming his attention to the subject at hand. “Tony, I think Lilith might actually quit over this.”

A very real possibility. Despite the obvious tensions over the past six weeks, Tony hadn’t believed it would come down to that. But hearing the tone in Lilith’s voice convinced him things were a lot worse than he’d thought. He’d assumed on her side, this was just about feeling awkward about having to turn down whatever offer Loki had made to her.

_Now I’m beginning to wonder if Thor’s right on this one. I don’t think the Trickster made any offer at all. And from the sound of it, I’m almost willing to bet that Lilith_ wanted _him to._

Not wanting to feed Pepper’s worry, he replied with a reassuring, “She said she’ll be back in two weeks.”

“She also said she’d be here today.”

_Point taken._

“Let’s give it two weeks. If she’s not back by then, I’ll take Cap with me and we’ll see what we can do to fix this.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Tony, but I very much doubt you’re going to be able to fix it. Either of you.”

“Have a little faith in me, doll.”

She remained stubbornly grim, especially when the screensaver changed to fan art of Loki. Her hand reached for the mouse and jiggled it enough to wake the computer out of standby. On screen, the team’s official mailbox remained up and running. Tony grimaced at the subfolder with his name- three hundred unread messages. He wondered how much of that was the backlog of mail he’d neglected to review and how much of it was new from the weekend.

To avoid thinking about how terrible he was about keeping up with his fan mail, he redirected his focus elsewhere. The main inbox sat at nearly five hundred unread messages, but the delete folder blew all that way. Eighteen hundred messages. Tony leaned over and scrolled through the list, thinking that Lilith must have forgotten to empty the box in a while with things so hectic over the past few weeks. He was wrong. Eighteen hundred messages. Since _Friday_.

_What in the hell_ are _these?_

Curious, he pulled up one of the deleted messages and began reading. A sentence in, his eyebrows rose. By the end, they furrowed in an angry frown. Obviously, he should have been paying closer attention to this box. But he’d expected Lilith would have _told_ him if she was seeing this sort of thing. An expectation he’d have to set with her when she came back in January.

_If she comes back in January._

Pepper read over his shoulder, and gasped, “My god. What kind of person could…Tony, _no one_ should have to read _that_ kind of abuse.”

“I’m guessing Lilith doesn’t, and has some kind of filter that dumps them in here before they make it to the main box.”

“But that’s not the point. People are _threatening_ her. This one said he’d find out where she lived and…”

“I know what he said. I read it.”

_And I’ll be setting up a few rules of my own for this box. Have JARVIS comb through this garbage and identify any genuine threats that should be forwarded to the Chief of Police._

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll handle this.”

She cast him a meaningful glare. 

“You’d better.” They fell into silence for a few moments, before Pepper put them back on track. “Should we tell either of them about what she said?”

Tony knew who she meant and shrugged.

“I don’t know if it’ll do any good. For all we know, it might make things worse.”

A shuffling step in the doorway interrupted whatever she’d been about to say. They both turned to see Loki standing there, regarding the room with barely concealed disappointment. His gaze focused on Tony.

“I take it you spoke with Lilith just now.”

No use lying; he’d know.

“Yes.”

The god weighed that answer in silence. Thor appeared on his right, drawn by the gathering in the small room. He looked as though he wanted to ask a few questions of his own, but then Loki spoke.

“She’s not coming in, is she?”

“No, she isn’t.”

“What did she say?” When Tony hesitated, Loki came further into the room and added, “I heard the two of you talking. You were saying that it might make things worse to tell me, but I want to know, anyway. What did Lilith say?”

He had his misgivings, but deferred to Pepper to make the final decision. It’d be on her head for telling him if word ever got back to Lilith about this conversation. His lady studied the god for a long time, but ultimately felt it worth the risk to tell him. She cleared her throat and looked Loki squarely in the eye.

“I asked her if she was avoiding the Tower on your account and Lilith’s only reply was that she ‘can’t do this’.”

Loki couldn’t hold her stare, and dropped his gaze. From where he sat, the god had the look of regret about him. Unusual to see that particular expression from him; regret wasn’t something Loki was exactly known for. The four of them remained locked in that grim silence for a handful of minutes before the god brought himself to ask the next most logical question.

“Is she quitting?”

“I asked her that as well. Lilith assured me she wasn’t.”

He was no more convinced by that than they had been when Lilith said it. If he didn’t miss his guess, Loki believed it even _less_. In fact, it looked as if the god was almost certain that she wasn’t coming back.

_And just why is that, Trickster?_

Tony decided it was long overdue to find out just what happened. They’d all put up with Loki’s evasive answers and his moodiness for damn near two months. He wasn’t putting up with it anymore. No he wasn’t.

“What happened on that balcony, Loki? What did you do that’s chased Lilith away from the Tower?”

The god sighed and let out a self-deprecating laugh that conveyed more anguish than amusement. Thor winced, as did Pepper, but Tony kept his eyes on him with a hard stare. Finally, Loki raised his head, resignation and misery etched in his pained smile.

“I suppose it’s of little use to keep up the pretense at this point. It’s not like you’ll be able to make it any worse.”

They waited as the god took a breath and let it out.

“I fell in love with her.”

That announcement caught them- Thor included- off guard. Whatever the Thunder god had coaxed out of his brother before this, those words were not among ones he’d heard before. The shock of hearing them now prompted Thor to speak first. He rounded on Loki, who half-turned to face him.

“Brother- you can’t mean it. Interested is one thing, but…” He trailed off before finishing the rest of that sentence, nonplussed by the unwavering stare he received from his brother. “Loki, this is serious.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Another long silence.

“He’d never let you do it. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know,” Loki shot back angrily. “Why do you think I made the choice I did?”

“So you didn’t…?”

“No. I didn’t tell her. How could I?”

“It’s not like you couldn’t have…”

“No, I _couldn’t_ have, Thor.”

The Thunder god regarded Loki quietly before saying, “I see.”

Maybe _he_ understood, but Tony was feeling somewhat lost. Beside him, Pepper was looking equally confused. The two gods had all but forgotten they were there, completely engrossed in their unintentionally cryptic conversation. And as fascinating as it was, Tony couldn’t contain his curiosity to know just what it was about.

“Who wouldn’t let you do what?”

Thor and Loki spared him a glance. Neither one seemed all that eager to answer his question, regarding the two of them with equal amounts of wariness and detachment. Weighing whether they _would_ reply or leave the query unaddressed. Whether mortals like him and Pepper _deserved_ to know the business of gods like them.

_Times like this remind me of what they are._ He sided a look to Pepper. _And what we’re not._

Maybe Lilith had the right idea to get away.

* * *

_Two weeks,_ I told myself determinedly. _Two weeks to get myself sorted out._

A change of scenery might help with that. I’d spent far too long in one place. Far longer than I’d intended, really. Getting far away from New York would keep me from dwelling on things I couldn’t change or undo. Maybe would give me ideas on how I was going to find a way not to make a lie out of what I’d just told Pepper about coming back to the Tower.

Joel, finished with his breakfast, had come to inspect what remained of mine. I had to push him away from the glass of milk, scolding, “Not for you, you tyrant. That’s mine.”

He paid no attention to the rebuke, trying to dip his left paw into the glass; I scooped him up despite his yowling protest and bopped his nose with mine.

“So, where should we go?”

“Mrow?”

“Well, you’re no help at all.”

He squirmed in my grasp, so I released him down to the floor. Still thinking of where to go. And then my gaze fell on a post card clipped to my fridge, giving me some inspiration. I crossed the room and snatched it in my left hand, staring at the glossy picture. Snowy mountains. An ancient fortress on a plateau and a quaint old world city below. Greetings from a friend I’d met in that place years ago- that and a teasing invitation to meet there again sometime.

“Why not?” I mused. “I haven’t been back in longer than I can remember.”

“Miaow?” Salem queried inquisitively from my feet.

“I showed him the face of the card and said, “What say we dust off our German and take the TARDIS for a spin to Austria for the holiday?”

The cat turned on his heel and sauntered back to his bowl, nose turned up haughtily.

“Take that attitude and I’ll leave you both here,” I called after him.

I wouldn’t, of course. Which was why Salem took that threat about as seriously as he took my threatening to bathe him. First things first, though. I sat down at the table and scarfed down my breakfast. Now that I had a plan of sorts, I was eager to be off. Felt much better already. Well, _better_ , anyway. And once the dishes were dealt with, I did a bit of tidying up. Then it was straight to the hall closet to fetch boots and the like.

The cats, alerted to the flurry of activity, trotted ahead of me to the spare bedroom. That was what it was _intended_ to be, anyway, when I leased this place from the owner. She’d told me how perfect it would be for children. At the time, I’d hidden the stab of pain that those words produced; she hadn’t meant any harm in them, and certainly couldn’t know how they’d sting. I’d told her something that I couldn’t remember now, and changed the subject.

Really, what I needed was a place to park my TARDIS. The streets of New York were no place for it. I felt better having it where I could keep a closer eye on it. Hardly likely for it to go missing in here, disguised as it was as a large wardrobe closet. No one would think for a moment that an alien spaceship stood up against the one wall.

_Not that anyone’s ever here to_ see _it._

I withdrew my key from the gold chain I always wore around my neck and inserted it into the lock. It released easily, letting the doors swing open. I hadn’t seen the inside of it in months, but the expansive main chamber of the TARDIS welcomed me back as if I’d never left. Granted, I had to wait my turn to step inside. Salem and Joel took it as their right to go first.

With a contented sigh, I spent a few minutes enjoying the current theme, which I’d only updated six months ago. Inspired by a recent fascination with spiders, I’d incorporated web-like structures. The design pushed the boundaries of aesthetics and function- experimenting with the illusion of seemingly delicate supports that shouldered the TARDIS’ massive weight.

No matter how often I changed the décor, however, the central engine- the heart of the TARDIS itself- remained constant. Always familiar. The one link that reminded me of where I came from.

_And of the place I’ll never see again._ My hands traced lightly over the controls as I was gripped by a wave of melancholy. Happened every time. Just for a few minutes and then it would pass. _No sense thinking of what you might have been able to do to help if you hadn’t abandoned Gallifrey._

It wasn’t as if I’d _meant_ to. My aim had been to punish my parents for a time. Long enough for them to relent about what I chose to do with my life. I certainly would have returned to help in their war against the Daleks if I’d known about it before it was too late. Before the Time Lords, Daleks and the whole of Gallifrey burned.

_You know who was responsible for_ that _, don’t you?_

With a grim nod, I spun the dial and set the TARDIS coordinates for present-day Salzburg.

“I most certainly _do_ , and he’s lucky to have stayed out of my way ever since.” Of course, I’d been equally amenable when it came to staying out of _his_ way, for other reasons. Reasons that began long before the Daleks as part of a whole _different_ kind of war. I threw the switch to send the TARDIS hurtling through space and muttered, “And that’s why we’re going to Salzburg and not London.”

We landed quietly on the edge of Domplatz, disguised as a vendor stall for the annual Kristkindlmarkt. Unlike another certain Time Lord, I actually used the TARDIS’ chameleon circuit for its intended purpose. It was already early evening- later than I expected it to be. I made a mental note to check the controls for minor calibration issues before making the return trip home. But the timing worked to my advantage, for in the smudgy hours after sundown, no one noticed the appearance of a new stall in a space that had been empty moments before.

I set the security protocols and left the cats the guard the TARDIS while I went out to do a bit of sight-seeing.

Large fluffy flakes were falling in the busy square outside my door. Another stroke of luck. This time of year, snow wasn’t always a guarantee. One year, I’d had the misfortune of experiencing a miserable, sleeting rain around Christmastime. As the frozen ice crystals collected softly on my coat, eyelashes and hair, I smiled in the much improved fortunes of this year’s weather. A light dusting of white powder gave the festively lit booths the look of a snow globe village.

_The perfect setting to get in the spirit of the holiday season._

I wandered leisurely amongst native Austrians and visiting tourists alike, stopping every so often to admire the craftsmanship of the goods for sale. Unmindful of the chill in the air until I’d been walking for a good half-hour or more. Easily remedied with a mug of glühwein. They sold it in the States this time of year, but it never tasted quite the same. I sipped mine cautiously, listening to the ever-present murmur of conversations around me.

At first, they spoke mostly of the expected topics for the time of year: Holiday plans, present-giving and the weather. News about family and friends. But then I started hearing snatches of something else. Hushed worries about goings on at the hospital on the north side of the city. Children who went in to be treated for illnesses and never came out again. Were never _seen_ again.

_Dammit._

So much for a vacation. From what they were saying, something was amiss in Salzburg. And while I reasoned to myself that it could be the work of humans preying on one another, a sixth sense was telling me the source behind these strange disappearances wasn’t terrestrial.

_Meaning you best think of picking a new location for your holiday, unless you want to run across_ him _here._

And he _would_ come. Sooner or later, the Doctor would swoop in to set right whatever alien race was trying to shift the planet off-course. He had a particular fondness for Earth and humans. Not that I could completely blame him, having spent as much time among them as I had. But as the Doctor had appointed himself as their protector, I had always deferred to him when it came to neutralizing external threats.

_The planet can only handle the interference of one Time Lord._

Reluctantly, I set the empty mug on a table and headed in the general direction of my TARDIS. Wasn’t easy with the crowds, which had grown larger since I first arrived. On their account, I was forced to make a few detours out of my way. Took me to the far corner of the plaza- the complete _opposite_ side from where I wanted to be. Impatient, I ducked around the back of a row of vendor booths, hoping it would be much needed a shortcut.

My feet slid to a stop as I stared in horror at the very last thing I wanted to see.

“Oh hell. He’s already here.”

* * *

“This was supposed to be a vacation,” Donna reminded the Doctor as they sifted through stacks of daily newspapers discarded in a bin. “On the beach, you said. Does this look like the beach?”

As if he even heard her, murmuring under his breath while rapidly scanning the pages in his hand. Just like he’d been doing since the TARDIS got routed off-course from their intended destination and dropped off here. Could the man leave well enough alone and reset the controls to land them on Midnight?

Of course not.

No, the Doctor had to sort out _why_ the TARDIS brought them to this particular time and place. Which led them to overhearing gossip about missing children. And now to _this_. Digging in a bin for…

“What are we looking for, anyway?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” the Doctor replied distractedly.

“And why aren’t we just going to the hospital to look there? That’s where they say kids are disappearing.”

He didn’t answer.

Meanwhile, the afternoon hours had come and gone. Donna left him to his rummaging and looked on wistfully at the groups of people having a good time in the crowded square. Maybe this wasn’t the beach, but Christmastime in this lovely little city wouldn’t be so bad if she had a bit of time to explore it. She glanced over her shoulder to check on the Doctor; he was half in the bin, throwing random papers over the rim as onlookers shook their heads over his odd behavior.

_He’s well-occupied. I say I go have a look around._

And that’s exactly what she did. Wandered around the brightly lit square to see all the little shops and people. A few Euros bought her something she knew she’d never be able to pronounce if not for the TARDIS. But here she was, Donna Noble, walking about and speaking German like it was nothing. No matter how long she’d traveled with the Doctor, things like that still amazed her.

Despite the mishaps and some of his odder- not to mention irritating- habits, traveling with the Doctor was the best thing to have ever happened in Donna’s life. Not even the half-dozen times she’d nearly died could make her want to go back to her old life. Not even the one time when she technically _did_ die on their most recent excursion in the Library. To see the world- the whole universe…who _wouldn’t_ want that kind of excitement?

She passed by a vendor stall selling ornaments. Intricate works of silver and crystal meant to resemble snowflakes. Or possibly stars. They caught the light and threw back a thousand tiny sparkles. Donna paused to admire them for quite a while, but noticed that the owner was nowhere to be seen. Several other interested customers waited for a time. The turned away, disappointed, after a short spell.

_Strange to have left this unattended at such a busy time,_ she thought. _Doesn’t look like the shopkeeper closed up for the night, so he or she must be coming back._

At least she _hoped_ the owner had stepped out for a bit. With the stories of missing people, Donna knew it was possible for the absence to be far less benign. She debated whether she ought to call for the Doctor and turned to locate him in the crowd. Only when she did, she came face to face with a young, blonde woman who looked equally startled to find Donna standing between her and the vendor stall.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Donna gestured over her shoulder.

“I’m guessing this must be your shop, then?”

A pause.

“I, uh. Yes, it is,” the woman replied, somewhat flustered. “I was having a bite to eat.”

The woman skirted around her and slipped into the shop. Donna turned back to the counter, thinking to find out a little more about her. A sixth sense told her that something more was going on here. Something far more interesting than old newspapers, Donna wagered. She gave the woman a friendly smile and waved a hand at the ornaments.

“These are lovely. Did you make them yourself?”

“Yes.”

_Not very chatty, is she?_

“I didn’t see any prices marked anywhere- are they all the same, or are they different depending on the piece?” Another uncomfortable pause. No answer this time. Just a stare that bordered on hostile. Undeterred, Donna tried again, asking somewhat suspiciously, “They _are_ for sale, aren’t they?”

“It depends on the buyer,” the woman answered tightly. “I am rather particular when it comes to selling my work.”

“That’s a good way to end up with no customers at all.”

“I don’t need the money.”

Yes, something very odd was going on here. Clearly, this woman did not want her to hang around and was being deliberately rude to be rid of her. Too damn bad. Donna was used to people trying to give her the brush off and wasn’t bothered in the least. Not to mention that she could be far more abrasive than this snarky blonde could ever hope to be.

“You don’t need the money,” she repeated in a loud, sarcastic tone. That caught the attention of several other people passing by, who now stopped to watch the drama unfold. “Just what kind of shopkeeper are you, then?”

“There’s no need to-”

“Why be here at all if you weren’t interested in selling anything?”

Donna tried grabbing the nearest ornament; her hand passed right through it. Illusions. Nothing here was real at all. They stared at one another in mutual silence and then the woman’s expression changed. Hardened. Lost whatever mask that had been concealing the danger lurking behind it. She was in for it now, wasn’t she?

“What do you want,” the woman demanded in a voice so low that only Donna could hear. “You set out to make a point, so I’ll ask you again- what do you want?”

“I-”

“Donna!” the Doctor’s voice called out from behind her. At the sound of it, the blonde’s eyes widened with momentary fear before shifting back to the neutral mask she’d worn before. The Doctor pulled up beside Donna and slid to a stop. He didn’t spare the other woman a glance as he continued, “Donna this isn’t the time to go wandering off- why do you always wander off. A thousand times I’ve-”

Donna tipped her head meaningfully in the direction of the shop and tried to mouth a silent message to him, but the Doctor just scrunched his nose and frowned in baffled confusion.

“What? You…what?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. You can be so thick sometimes.”

“Well there’s no need-” he turned briefly to the woman and said, “Hello, by the way. I’m the Doctor. If you could give my friend and me just a minute.”

He came back around to Donna, intending to finish whatever he’d been about to say, and then he froze. For once in all the time she’d ever known him, the Doctor remained perfectly still. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink. Just stared at her with the most unusual expression she’d ever seen. And then slowly, he pivoted on the balls of his feet to face the blonde behind the counter, who regarded him just as strangely. Again, just staring until he managed to find his voice; it came out rather strangled.

“Storyteller?”

The woman let out a slow, painful breath and replied, “Yes, Doctor. It’s been a long time.”


	6. Unbreakable Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've brought Martha back starting this chapter, as U.N.I.T. is also investigating the unexplained disappearances in Salzburg. She hasn't had much luck in solving the case, until she has an enlightening conversation with Dr. Steinbauer. They'll hit upon the source, but end up in quite the predicament. Not sure how they're going to get out of it without either the Doctor or Lilith's help, but we'll have to see how they muddle through in upcoming chapters.
> 
> Speaking of those two- what does the Doctor think of running across the Storyteller after all these years? Good question. He'll provide some of the answers; we'll have to wait for others to come later. But the three of them have quite the chat in Lilith's TARDIS. Meanwhile, back at the Tower the conversation following Loki's confession is also quite intense. Thing is, just when they've gotten to the point of understanding that anything between him and Lilith would be impossible, Nat will swing by the office with a puzzling Twitter post that may turn everything upside down....

St. Johanns bustled with the activities of shift change. Martha watched on from her station, one hand closed around the end of her stethoscope. The other she pressed to the transponder in her left ear. Deactivating the two-way communication link between her and the rest of her team from U.N.I.T. She’d just given a status report, and needed to get back on the job.

Fortunately for her, she was tailor fit for this operation in Salzburg. Her medical skills were an asset in a hospital setting, much like they’d been when U.N.I.T. had investigated ATMOS in the battle against the Sontarans. Granted, it wasn’t quite as easy as if she’d still been travelling with the Doctor. Without the TARDIS translating languages automatically, she had to rely on her own skills. One of the many things she missed about that life.

_Still- it was the right choice to get out._

As she glanced down to the ring on her left hand, Martha smiled to herself. Yes, definitely the right choice to get out. Maybe she’d give Tom a call on her next break and see how things were going with the clinic he was running in Mafeteng. She hadn’t spoken to her fiancé since Friday, and even that had only been for a few minutes. Right now, Martha had a job to do. She nodded to one of the senior resident physicians, Karl Steinbauer, who beckoned her to follow him from across the room.

Expecting that he wanted to include her on a diagnosis consultation, she headed over to meet him. From there, they walked side-by-side through the maze of corridors. Neither of them saying much. On her part, Martha’s conversational skills were still relatively limited. But she’d only just arrived two weeks ago. Adding to that the four days to get her briefed on the mission before she left didn’t give her much time to brush up on her language skills.

_At least my cover story compensated for that._

She was here as part of an exchange program. Doctors taking residencies in another country to receive credits against their loans. The timing for the next set of rotations had come up just as U.N.I.T. learned of the mysterious disappearances happening at this hospital. They managed to swap her name in place of the doctor who’d been selected for the program originally. Not that difficult to convince Dr. Evans to give up her place with the lure of offering to pay off the entire balance of her education.

_Just like they paid off mine as part of the deal that I’d come to work for them._

“How are you enjoying Salzburg, Dr. Jones,” Steinbauer asked in heavily accented English.

“I’m afraid I haven’t gotten to see much of it,” she replied, surprised that he’d made such an effort and yet grateful for the chance to speak her native language. “I like to spend most of my time here, learning what I can. It’s what I came to do.”

“Dedication to the job is a good thing, but you should take time for yourself, ja?”

“I suppose.”

He smiled at her. A genuine smile that encouraged her to respond with one of her own. Steinbauer was one of the few residents who hadn’t looked on her as a burden; most of the others tolerated her, but didn’t make much of an effort to be friendly. In fact, some had been outright hostile the moment she arrived. Deliberately excluding her in their conversations and snubbing any effort to talk to them. Martha could attribute it to the clear understaffing problem at St. Johanns, but she suspected their behavior stemmed from something else.

Like not wanting to give her the chance to bring up the subject of missing children. Since she’d arrived, everyone had pretended that nothing was wrong. The few times Martha had raised the subject she’d been shut down very quickly, telling her that parents were just creating trouble with paranoid rumors. A few children had contracted a highly contagious disease and had been quarantined for the safety of the other patients. When she’d pressed to see the quarantine ward, Martha had been given lip service about having the proper security clearance.

“You work the overnight shift tonight,” Steinbauer queried, interrupting her train of thought.

“Yeah. I’ll be on it this whole week.”

By design. She’d volunteered for the overnight shift in hopes that she’d be able to poke around. See if she could find that mysterious ‘quarantine ward’ that no one claimed they could show her. Less oversight from the rest of the staff, given that those hours tended to be quiet. But she’d have to wait until later in the evening- closer to midnight- before she could slip away.

In the meantime, she was curious what Steinbauer wanted. Instead of stopping at any of the smaller examination rooms, he’d just kept walking. And then, almost as if he _knew_ what she intended to do with her evening, he cast a serious look in her direction.

“You should be careful,” he warned her ominously. “Do not go wandering alone, Dr. Jones.”

They’d come to a stop in a seemingly deserted part of this hospital wing. She couldn’t recall having been here before- had no reason to be, as it was under construction and housed no patients. Steinbauer circled around so that they were standing face to face, giving Martha a partial view out the window. Although most of her attention was focused on him, she could see the gothic spires of an old church that must have been built centuries ago in her periphery vision.

Steinbauer exhaled as his eyes darted from one end of the hall to another. As if he was checking to be sure no one had followed them. So whatever he intended to say, he didn’t want an audience. Interesting.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he began. “But I didn’t think it was right with you working here, not knowing.”

* * *

The snow fell more thickly, causing the Doctor to blink. When he reopened his eyes, she was still standing there. Blonde hair this time; last time he saw her, she’d been a brunette. No snow on that day. The late evening rays of summer had gilded a halo around her hair against a backdrop of Gallifrey’s red hills darkening to crimson. Just as her green eyes- _those_ she hadn’t changed- had darkened. Not on account of the fading light, but with hurt and confusion- not to mention anger- in the aftermath of his accusations. 

The details were seared into his brain as if it had happened only yesterday.

No matter how _hard_ he’d tried to forget.

No matter how _far_ he’d run.

Memories of that day continued to haunt him.

Not always. Days. Years- sometimes whole decades would pass without thinking about her. Life moved on whether he wanted it to or not. More than once, the Doctor had convinced himself that she was a closed chapter. Just like Gallifrey. A historical point in his personal timeline that could not be rewritten. He counted the reasons to believe the loss didn’t matter to him anymore- Sarah Jane and Rose. And…River.

The last of those should have been the surest sign, even though he was still sorting himself out from their recent meeting in the Library. He told her his name. Not then, but sometime in the future. _His_ future; River’s _past_. How appropriate for the life of a Time Lord. Never anything in straight lines. The Doctor knew he couldn’t have told anyone _that_ name unless…

_Unless I’d given up on the hope of having the only other person I’ve told it to._

The person who currently regarded him with equal amounts of resentment and dread.

“Doctor?”

The odds of crossing paths with her here...

“Doctor?”

All of time and space and to share the exact same moment again after all these years...

“ _Doctor._ ”

He reacted to Donna’s sharp verbal jab with a shuddering jolt, not quite sure how long he’d been standing there. From the mildly concerned expressions on their faces, likely a while. With difficulty, he reached for his usual upbeat demeanor to convince them not to start on about asking if anything was wrong.

“Right then. Introductions,” he began with false brightness in his tone. Half-turning to the woman on his left, he gestured with his hands. “Donna Noble, this is the Storyteller. Storyteller, this is Donna. There you have it.”

The Doctor took a step backward, preparing as if to make an exit. And since neither woman seemed inclined to speak, he thought he might actually be off the hook. He glanced from one to the other and back. Might as well give it a try.

“Lovely chat, but since Donna and I have things to do- the usual, um…time stuff- it’s probably best that we-”

Donna wasn’t having any of it, cutting him off with a barbed command.

“Oi, just a minute, spaceman. You stay right where you are.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask me ‘what’ like you don’t know what. You can’t just introduce someone as ‘the Storyteller’ and expect that to be it.”

No, but he’d _hoped_ it would be. He still remembered how awkward it had been when Rose and Sarah Jane met; this had the potential to be ten times worse. That and a public square wasn’t exactly the best of places to talk about Time Lord business. An opinion that the third member of their conversation clearly shared. She cast a reluctant glance behind her, and then back to the two of them.

“It would seem we might be talking a while,” she said finally. “Just as well do it inside where it’s warm and-” a sharp look over his shoulder to the busy plaza- “ _private_.”

She disappeared into the darkness, leaving him and Donna to follow. The Doctor went first, passing through the shop- rather, through the false exterior she’d used to disguise her TARDIS. They crossed the threshold and he damn near lost his footing on the bowed footbridge leading to the center of the main chamber. A network of footbridges created a web of sorts that provided access to the various TARDIS components. The Doctor reached for a slender, arcing structure that disappeared into the ceiling for support until he’d steadied himself.

In truth, he stood in that doorway to regain more than just his physical balance; it was strange to be in a TARDIS that wasn’t his.

For so long, the Doctor had believed that he was the only Time Lord left. He’d thought the others- including her- had all perished when he set in motion the cataclysm that burned his home world. Hadn’t known until only just a few moments ago that she had escaped. He couldn’t say if it had taken him more by surprise than when he’d discovered the only _other_ who had survived the Time War.

_Best not to think about_ him _,_ the Doctor reminded himself forcefully. _Particularly not_ now _._

The three of them crisscrossed their way through the main chamber and into one of the many side rooms. This one seemed to have been spared the dramatic redesign and resembled an ordinary study. A fireplace crackled in one wall; the rest were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves. Several comfortable chairs had been arranged around the fire, meant for long hours curled up with a book. On the opposite end of the room, he noted the large, wooden desk.

A room meant for serious discussions. Just as well; something told him that they were about to have one.

* * *

Martha said nothing.

“You have heard rumors of the children?”

“I was told they’ve been placed under quarantine. But yes, I’ve heard rumors that there is no ward and that the children are missing.”

“The rumors- they’re true,” he confirmed with a sag of his shoulders. “Eleven children. Verschwindet- _vanished_ \- in the middle of the night.” He hesitated a moment longer before adding, “And it’s not just children, Martha. We have lost four nurses in the last month. All from the overnight shift. One of them disappeared only days before you arrived.”

Information she knew, but pretended she didn’t.

“But why pretend that nothing is wrong? Why is no one admitting that people are missing- or asking for help to find them?”

He ran a hand through his medium-length flaxen hair and sighed heavily.

“That I do not know,” he admitted. “Most of the hospital staff do not know the truth, and are being fed the quarantine story. The nurses who went missing were supposedly ‘assigned’ to the ward to look after the children. Only the three of us who’ve been on shift and seen the disappearances for ourselves understand that the quarantine story is not the truth.”

“So why haven’t _you_ said anything,” she prodded. “Talked to the police- or to the press at least.”

Steinbauer favored her with a bitter smile.

“And say what? I can offer no explanation for what happened to the children. If I do speak out, the hospital administrators will only find some way of countering my story. At best, my credibility would be ruined and I would cripple my career.”

“At worst?”

“They might cast me as the prime suspect.”

“You mean they’ll set you up like _you’re_ the one abducting people?” 

He didn’t answer, but his expression had gone leaden with guilt and anxiety. To Martha, the picture was very clear. Steinbauer and the other two staff members had received the same message. Comply with the cover-up or risk becoming a target for an investigation that would surely land them in jail. Three people weren’t enough to go up against that kind of pressure.

_Except word_ is _getting out._ Someone _had to have tipped off U.N.I.T. that this was happening, or I wouldn’t be here._

Martha had her suspicions on _who_ that someone was, but now wasn’t the time to confront Steinbauer about it. She would, but not until she had a better grasp on the situation. More answers about what exactly was happening in this place.

“So I repeat what I said before,” Steinbauer went on. “Be careful and don’t go wandering the hospital alone, Dr. Jones. Stay with the others.”

He shuffled one step to the right, allowing Martha a better view of the church façade in the distance. Four massive columns rose above the other buildings, each serving as a grand pedestal for four identical statues. She couldn’t take her eyes away from them- something about their pose jogged a memory. The bend heads, hands covering their faces. But Steinbauer diverted her attention before she could recall why they looked familiar. Just for a second.

And that’s all it took.

When she looked back, two of the statues were gone. That’s when she knew. She knew _exactly_ how those children and nurses had disappeared.

_Weeping Angels._

“We have to leave,” she told him. “Everyone-” she reached into her pocket to withdraw her mobile. The Doctor- they needed the Doctor. “Everyone needs to clear out if they can. It’s not safe here.”

“It is alarming, Dr. Jones,” he agreed. “But we can’t just tell everyone to evacuate the hospital. The doctors and nurses- the _patients_ \- where can they go?”

“Listen. I know what this is and I’m telling you, we have to _get out_.” Martha took hold of his arm and steered him to the window. She gestured to the church and asked, “How many statues do you see on the front of that building?”

“Two, but I don’t see what-”

“A minute ago, there were _four_ ,” she interrupted him. “Tell me- how long have those statues _been_ there? Have they _always_ been there?”

Steinbauer paused to think, and shook his head.

“The city was hit by a heavy storm in late August. The original statues were destroyed, although no one was sure how it happened.”

A mystery, but that didn’t concern her as much as the answer to her next question.

“So how did _those_ get here, then?”

“The church received them as a gift from the private collection of an anonymous donor. They were set in place about…”

He trailed off. Martha didn’t want to stand here where they could be trapped. She reached for her other coat pocket as she prodded him to finish. “About when?”

“Six weeks ago,” he murmured.

Her search came up empty. She must have accidentally left her mobile in her winter jacket. Not much good it did her there, sitting in her locker on the other side of the building. Martha’s eyes darted around, trying to keep an eye on everywhere all at once. She knew the Weeping Angels would know she’d recognized them and would hunt her down first. They had to get out of here.

“I’m guessing that’s when the first kids started going missing, yeah?”

“A few days later, I think. But what does a statue have to do with it? How could it possibly…?”

“They’re _not_ statues,” Martha explained in a low, urgent voice. She ignored the dubious arch in Steinbauer’s eyebrows to say, “They’re alive, but quantum locked. When someone is looking at them, they’re no more than inanimate stone. But when all eyes are turned away, they-”

“Come now, Dr. Jones. You can’t expect me to believe something that preposterous. We are in the business of science, not science fiction.”

He turned away from the window and ushered her in front of him. Somewhat panicked, Martha clawed her way back to look out. 

Too late.

“They’re gone,” she backed away from the windowsill. “They’re all gone, and they’ll be here next, I tell you.”

Steinbauer shot Martha an ever so slightly condescending look before humoring her enough to check the window for himself. At least she had the pleasure of watching his complexion blanch to paper white as he stared at the now four empty columns.

“This cannot be. It just cannot be as you say.”

“I wish it weren’t. I really do. But we have to get back to my locker.”

“Why there?”

“I need to call the Doctor.”

“A doctor? We have plenty of doctors here already. What difference will one more make?”

_All the difference in the world._

* * *

The room had grown unbearably silent in the wake of Stark’s question. Thor looked to him and shrugged, leaving Loki with the ultimate decision of whether or not to answer. His first instinct was to find some excuse why he _couldn’t_ , but he knew Stark would keep asking. Less aggravating to get it over with; he’d already confessed the most damning part, anyway.

_You actually said the words out loud._

_I heard._

They _all_ heard.

Loki had spent the first half of November denying those words even existed. Tried every argument he could think of to convince himself that they _couldn’t_ be true. But then he would find himself standing on the terrace in the hours after everyone else had long gone to bed, replaying memories of Stark’s party. Imagining how that evening might have gone if he’d said what he’d _wanted_ to say instead of what he knew he _had_ to say. He’d gone so far as to extend that line of thought to pretend it _could_ have lasted forever.

He couldn’t deny the words then. Not on account of the daydream itself. Loki had imagined a great many things out of idle boredom or any number or reasons. No, what convinced him had been how much it hurt when reality revealed this particular fantasy for the lie it was. The answer to Stark’s question was just one painful part of that reality.

“Asgard has laws concerning gods and mortals,” Loki explained in the hope to end the discussion quickly. “Laws that not even _I_ dare break.”

_Never imagined I’d_ ever _be in a position to contemplate breaking_ this _law._

“What are you saying? Because to me it _sounds_ like you’re saying taking a human lover isn’t allowed,” Stark queried somewhat incredulously. “Is _that_ what this is about? Asgard has some petty rule about not consorting with the likes of us?”

If only it were that simple. If it were, Loki wouldn’t have had second thoughts about ignoring it and doing what he wanted. But it wasn’t. He set himself to the unpleasant task of explaining to the mortal _why_.

“It _isn’t_ a petty rule. And contrary to what you assume, liaisons _aren’t_ expressly forbidden.” _Frowned upon yes, but not forbidden._ He continued on to clarify, “With the understanding that they’re _temporary_.”

A lightbulb turned on in the man’s brain at Loki’s emphasis of the word ‘temporary’.

“So…bringing one home to ‘meet the family’ is-”

“Not done. Not ever.”

“Yeah, but do you really mean ‘not done’ or just ‘hasn’t been done before’? Just how firm is this so-called ‘law’ on the subject?”

Very firm indeed. Loki knew the punishment that came with breaking the law and had witnessed the sentence carried out at least once before. Odin would not hesitate to do it again, and had been clear that he would show no leniency for anyone- not even Thor. He certainly wouldn’t do it for _him_.

“Bringing a mortal to Asgard is a crime punishable by death,” Loki stated as dispassionately as possible, not wanting to think about it.

Stark shook his head with a half-hearted laugh, as if he thought it a joke.

“They’d kill you over sneaking in your girlfriend? _Harsh_.”

“Not me,” he clarified when he realized that the man had misunderstood _who_ would receive the punishment. “The mortal.”

That piece of information sobered the pair very quickly. Stark and Pepper looked to one another, clearly unsettled. Harsh didn’t even come close to describing what would happen if he’d tried to bring Lilith to Asgard. And perhaps _now_ they were finally beginning to understand why he hadn’t even contemplated trying to circumvent the Allfather’s wishes.

The price of failure would be too high.

“What couldn’t you do,” Pepper dared to ask when conversation had stalled. “Thor suggested you could do something, but you said you couldn’t. What was it?”

A beat of silence followed the question, and Loki couldn’t ignore the irony of what he was about to say. What couldn’t he bring himself to do? The very thing he excelled at.

“Lie.”

She blinked, taken aback. After a few false starts, she managed to say, “That’s not-”

“What you expected? No, perhaps not.”

“Loki,” Thor hedged somewhat reluctantly. “I think you need to consider your options.”

He rounded on his brother and let the weight of his temper color his sharp-edged retort.

“My ‘options’. The way I see it, I have only three. One: I tell Lilith that I want to be with her and admit _why_ \- conveniently leaving out that one day I’ll have to set her aside and break her heart. Or two: I pursue her without any promises at all and when it ends, she’ll think it was just a meaningless fling.”

“When you put it like that it sounds-”

“ _Intolerable_ is how it sounds. She’ll wind up hating me either way. Which is why I went with the third option and chose to say nothing to her at all. It’s the only one I could see myself living with.”

Thor sighed heavily.

“Okay, so obviously pursuing this is not an option. But whether you meant to or not, Loki, you must have led Lilith to believe _something_ might come of your recent interest in her. If you don’t tell the woman why it _can’t_ , she’s going to think it was all a joke.”

Unfortunately, his brother was right. He hadn’t wanted to lie to her to get what he wanted, but to Thor’s point he had been equally unwilling to tell her a truth that would close the chapter for good. Likely because he hadn’t completely given up hope. Hope that wouldn’t do him any good if Lilith thought he’d been having fun at her expense. And if her behavior over the last month and a half was any indication, she likely did.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Romanoff, who cast a look around the room. 

“What in the…? What’s everyone doing in _here_ this morning?” Loki caught the moment when she realized who she _wasn’t_ seeing amongst the group. “She didn’t come in, huh?”

“No, Nat, she didn’t,” Stark replied grimly. “The four of us were just discussing that fact. What brought you here, anyway?”

His question encouraged her to come into the room instead of hovering just outside. Romanoff edged around Loki and Thor in order to get into the office, directing a thoughtful look in his direction before landing her attention back on Stark. Her odd look aside, he was glad for _any_ reason to turn the conversation away from its original course. Even if the reprieve would be a temporary one.

“Nothing major. I happened to see something on my Twitter feed this morning, and I was going to ask her if she’d seen it on the team one, too.”

Loki helped this new topic along by asking politely, “Saw what, exactly?”

“Apparently, one of the guests at the party let their imaginations get a little carried away with her choice of costume,” she explained with a bemused chuckle as she held up her phone and tapped the screen. A second later, Romanoff showed it to him. “They photoshopped an image of the classic Doctor Who TARDIS and made it look like it was here in the Tower for the party. Apparently, the image has been around for some time, but only went viral yesterday.”

“Let me see that,” Stark insisted, reaching for the phone.

“Go look for yourself. Check the team’s account. I’m sure Lilith’s still logged in on the computer.”

He spun around to face the desk and tabbed through the open browser windows until he came to the Twitter page. Sure enough, several dozen of the most recent tweets on the feed referenced the image- conveying interest in finding out whether or not the image was real. More tweets kept appearing on the team’s feed in rapid succession. All of them inquired about the TARDIS image.

“That’s a picture of this office,” Pepper gasped, startling everyone. “Tony, look- to the right of the TARDIS. That’s the wall calendar there.”

The phone’s screen was too small for Loki to see that level of detail. He handed it back to Romanoff and stepped closer to the computer. She and Thor did the same, and the five of them studied the screen. Sure enough, a portion of Lilith’s wall calendar and desk were clearly visible in the photo.

“How did anyone get a picture of this room?”

“Beats me,” Stark replied. “I double checked all of the rooms that were off limits to guests before the party, so I know for a fact it was locked.”

“You think Lilith might have come in here when she arrived,” Pepper suggested. “Maybe she forgot to lock it again.”

“Maybe. Hey, JARVIS?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“Can you run down the source of this image? Who posted it first- and when?” He sided a glance to the rest of them. “That should help with some of the questions, I should think.”

A minute or two later, the AI provided the results of its search, announcing, “The image was posted on Instagram by one Henry D. Woodward. Date and time of post approximately 12:01 AM, 11/1/2018.”

“Well, if that’s true, then there’s no way this is a photoshop,” Romanoff said. “Cap and I were talking to Woodward and his date maybe five or ten minutes before that. Something like this would have taken access to a computer and a good half hour to pull off.”

“So what, are you saying there really was a TARDIS in this room that night?”

“I don’t know, Pepper. I mean- Tony, this isn’t a joke of yours is it? You didn’t get a prop like _that_ staged in the Tower without telling anyone, did you?”

“As much as I’d like to take credit for this one, no.”

“Yeah, but _seriously_?”

“Seriously, I had nothing to do with any of this.”

Loki listened to the mortals arguing amongst themselves, staring at the image and thinking. Not quite wanting to reach the only logical conclusion about how a TARDIS appeared in- and _disappeared_ from- this room without any of them the wiser. Because if he did, then that meant…

_It meant she_ wasn’t _jesting._

 _And it means something_ else _, doesn’t it?_

“That is the most ridiculous- Time Lords aren’t _real_ , Tony!”

“Actually,” Loki interjected. “They are.”

* * *

“Trust me, this is one doctor who can get us out of this. But we have to hurry before-” Martha cut her sentence short as Steinbauer’s expression changed. He was no longer looking at her, but over her shoulder to the corridor beyond. She didn’t want to ask, but made herself do it. “They’re behind me already, aren’t they?”

“Just two of them.”

“Don’t look away. Don’t even blink. They can’t move if you’re looking at them.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Short explanation is they’ll send you to sometime in the past and consume the potential energy of the life you might have lived in the present.”

“How _far_ in the past?”

“No idea. It could be anywhen. The last time I encountered the Weeping Angels, they sent the Doctor and me back to 1969, but they sent another woman named Kathy to the 1920’s. From what I can tell, it’s entirely random.”

“That is not a comforting thought.”

No, it certainly wasn’t. She and the Doctor had been relatively lucky before, but even the London of 1969 wouldn’t have been a picnic when Martha thought about having to stick it out for good. And that was Great Britain. When it came to _this_ country, Martha wasn’t enthusiastic about being stuck in _any_ part of its history. All in all, she preferred time travel when it came with the means of taking her back to her _own_ time.

“I need to blink. I can’t hold my eyes open any longer.”

“Can you wink? Just close one eye and then the other?”

“I’m afraid I never mastered the skill,” he confessed in mild embarrassment.

That didn’t leave them with many options. Just one, really. Although she didn’t want to take her own eyes off the other end of the hallway, Martha offered, “I’ll turn my head so I can see them while you take a break. Then I’ll turn back, okay?”

He nodded.

As long as she dared, Martha locked gazes with the dreaded Angels. She’d only meant to do it for a second. But just seeing them again brought back the memories of last time- only layered on top was the panic in knowing if the Angels got her _this_ time, she might be stuck forever. And after she’d _promised_ Tom she was done with the time travelling. To disappear without him even knowing what happened to her…

With difficulty, she dragged her eyes away again to peer over Steinbauer’s shoulder and let out a breathless shriek.

“The other two,” he surmised grimly. “They’re now between us and the only way back, ja?”

“It would seem that we are trapped. Dr. Steinbauer, I-”

“It’s Karl.” She barely caught the edge of his wry smile. “If all you say is true, then I’d be pleased if you would call me by my name. A situation like this is a time when one could use a friend.”

Martha smiled in return.

“Agreed. So it’ll be Martha instead of Dr. Jones for me.”

“Martha,” he tried out. Meanwhile, her mind was already moving on to solve their current predicament.

“Well, Karl, what should we do,” she put to him. “There’s no chance of escape and it’s unlikely anyone will come to this wing before the Angels send us back to some other time. So do we stand here and let _them_ decide that moment- or do we get it over with on _our_ terms?”

Without the slightest hesitation to consider it, Karl said, “I say we meet our fate, Martha, whatever it may be.”

“Right, then. On three? All we have to do is look away from them. The Angels will do the rest.”

“On three.”

“One.” She let out a breath slowly, then counted, “Two.”

Karl gripped her hands in his, and finished with “Three”.

Their eyes met; it was all the opportunity the Angels needed to strike. Martha could feel the time and space distortion ripping her out of the present. Spinning and stretching with sickening speed. And yet she felt the reassuring squeeze of Karl’s fingers around hers. They never let go.

The world stopped spinning.

Somewhat shakily, Martha let herself look at where they’d landed. She frowned, immediately confused. It didn’t look as though they’d gone anywhere at all. They were still standing in the same corridor. But the Weeping Angels were gone, so they _must_ have been sent backward. Karl’s expression told her he was equally baffled. That is, until they had a look outside.

A very different city awaited them on the other side of the window. Martha could still see the church, but now the original statues stood atop the pedestals. The skyline around it had changed, though, lacking many of the modern buildings. Almost everything she saw now had been built of brick or stone. No glass and steel structures at all. And on the street below, horse-drawn carriages equaled- or outnumbered- autos. Early twentieth century at the latest.

_Not likely a time that works in my favor,_ she thought with no small amount of trepidation. She’d already had her fill of living in the prejudices of that era when she and the Doctor had tried to outrun the Family of the Blood. Months of having to pretend she was a domestic servant, enduring the sneering slights of her ‘betters’ without complaint. _I swear I’m not scrubbing floors again if I can help it._

“I had hoped you were making it up,” Karl murmured as he surveyed the city.

“You and me both. Any idea when this could be?”

“St. Johanns is a very old hospital. It’s hard to say.”

“You there,” a strident voice called out in German from the other end of the hallway. Martha struggled to keep up as he went on to say, “What are you doing there? We have patients to see to.”

They stepped back from the window and turned to the man, whose sour scowl only deepened when he saw her. Then his eyes shifted back to Karl as he dismissed Martha altogether. It began already.

“You are new- one of the physicians from Wien, I expect?”

“Agree,” she whispered low enough for Karl to hear. 

He shot her a mildly confused glance, as if he didn’t understand her. Or perhaps he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of telling a lie. But ultimately, he did obey her by answering, “I arrived this morning.”

“You are a day early, but it’s just as well with how short-handed we are.”

“Tough times, ja?”

“And they’re only going to be tougher now that we’ve lost not only the war, but our grand empire with it.”

_I guess that narrows things down a bit. He’s probably talking about the Austro-Hungarian Empire and WWI._

Karl, being no fool, had deduced the same. He accepted the news without any show of surprise, nodding as he feigned the same aggrieved disappointment of his colleague. At least, Martha _hoped_ he was only pretending. And when he didn’t venture any further comment, the other physician took it upon himself to get on with business.

“You may address me as Dr. Sperber. I’ll show you to the ward. Your,” he passed another dismissive and condescending look over Martha, “ _servant_ will have to remain at your lodgings from now on.”

“This is my personal assistant,” Karl corrected the man, not missing a beat. “She is trained to perform the medical tasks I require when treating patients. I do not work without her.”

He held the other man’s indignant stare until the latter’s eyes fell away. While Martha didn’t relish being demoted to an assistant, she appreciated that Karl had done his best to at least keep her in the realm of the medical profession. Not a guarantee it would work, but worth a try. And if it _did_ work, they had a better chance of figuring out what to do.

“I suppose with the shortages, we learn to accept what we must,” the man capitulated tightly. “Come along, then, both of you.”

They walked in silence for a ways, until Sperber stopped before a closed door. He pushed it open to reveal a large room filled with rows upon rows of utilitarian beds. Nurses scurried up and down the aisles, tending to the patients. Instruments sat in trays everywhere- not all of them clean- and buckets of discarded gauze and bandages were stashed bedside. Martha schooled her appalled reaction to the rudimentary conditions behind a blank mask.

_How does anyone expect to treat patients properly like this?_

“This is our main ward, which you can see is quite full at the moment. More of that thanks to the war. The left side of the room is for soldiers, most of whom were wounded grievously in battle. The right side is for our traditional patients- disease and common injuries.”

The far corner had been curtained off. When Sperber noted their interest, he explained, “For those whose ailments- and the treatment thereof- may be disturbing to the other patients.”

_I don’t even want to know what that means._

“And if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the children’s ward. That is where we’ll need your help. Over the last month or so, we’ve been plagued by a trend of truly disquieting cases.”

She and Karl traded a glance, and then he inquired, “Disquieting in what way?”

“Orphans- likely lost their parents on account of the ghastly war. All of them suffer from all manner of diseases, both common and some that appear to be incurable.”

“Very tragic.”

“It is,” Sperber agreed with little feeling. “But what we find most disconcerting is the damage it has wrought on their minds. The poor wretches, unable to accept the reality of their situation, have invented an alternate version of it in which they claim to be from the future.”

* * *

The Doctor couldn’t resist a bittersweet smile as he recognized the furnishing and the layout. She must have caught the look before he had the sense to hide it.

“My grandfather’s study,” she admitted, hanging her jacket on the hook of a coat tree just inside the door. “It had always been my favorite place in the house, so I suppose it should come as no surprise that I’d model my own after it.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sit, if you like.”

Donna did, unbuttoning her own coat and gazing at the room in wonder. As she did so, she uttered in amazement, “A TARDIS.” Then she turned to him and frowned. “I thought you said yours was the only one left?”

“So I thought, too,” he answered, though his eyes were fixed on the blonde-haired woman unlacing her boots. “But it would seem I wasn’t the only thief who made off with one.”

Supporting herself against the bookshelf with one hand, she used the other to tug at the heels so she could slip them off her feet. All the while, her head tilted at an angle so that she could look him in the eye. She arched her an eyebrow.

“To be fair- I came up with the idea first.”

_Yes, and we were supposed to steal one_ together _to explore the universe. That was the plan._

_And whose fault is it that the two of you never followed through with it?_

He didn’t have to answer that question; her expression gave it for him. Donna’s calculating look slid back and forth between them, but thankfully, she didn’t dig any further into the comment. Not yet. If he knew Donna, she would pry into it eventually. For now, she kept her questions on neutral ground.

“So you’re a Time Lord, then. Just like spaceman over there?”

“You could say that.”

“And he said that you’re the Storyteller.”

“I am, but it’s probably easier if you just call me Lilith.”

The Doctor sucked in a breath. He hadn’t allowed himself to even _think_ her name- not once since he’d left Gallifrey. Certainly couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud; Storyteller had been hard enough. A name that had started as a secret between the two of them, much like the hours she spent studying literature instead of the sciences her parents insisted were more important. But then she broke all ties with her family. He hadn’t been there, having already left Gallifrey in his stolen TARDIS, but he’d heard she’d thrown the name Storyteller in their faces and took to using it openly from that day on.

His reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by either of the women, but Donna commented first.

“What, you have something against a Time Lord having a name?”

“It’s not- I mean, no. Not at all.”

Donna didn’t believe a word of it, but Lilith cut her off with a gentle shake of her head. Her gaze still hadn’t left his as she told him solemnly, “That was always your rule, Doctor. Never mine.”

Doctor. As she said- _his_ rule. He should have known she wouldn’t break it by saying his own name, even though she had dozens of times in a past life. _Quite literally._ But she wouldn’t say it now. Not in front of Donna. Not even if they’d been alone. After the way they’d parted company, he thought it unlikely she’d ever say it again. Who would blame her?

_And yet, I wish she would. If only just once._

Wary of the direction his thoughts had taken, he queried, “And so what brings you to Salzburg? To Earth at all, even?”

The shift of topic was deliberate; Lilith didn’t try to shift it back. She settled into one of the chairs facing Donna and tucked her legs under her.

“I live here.”

“Live here?”

“Well, not _here_ here. Not in Salzburg. At least not for a good many years. But Earth. I’ve lived here close to…I don’t know, thirty- maybe forty- years now.”

So close. He’d had no idea that she’d been this close all this time. That they could have crossed paths long before this if he’d only known to look. The Doctor suspected that Lilith had intentionally seen to it that he didn’t.

“Where?”

“Here and there. Spent almost two decades in Europe before trying out various parts of the United States.”

“And currently?”

“New York.”

Which might explain her current accent. His own changed from regeneration to regeneration- as happened with most Time Lords. But Lilith’s never stayed constant, even without the changes of regenerating. She picked up bits and pieces from people around her to cobble them into a dialect that seemed to be from everywhere and yet nowhere.

“What brought you to Salzburg, then,” Donna asked curiously. “Is it like him, and you’re here to check out the missing children?”

“No, I- I didn’t find out about that until after I got here.” She gave them a rueful smile. “I typically leave saving the universe up to the Doctor; he’s got the knack for it.”

“So if it’s not the missing kids, what _are_ you here for?”

Lilith sighed and rested her chin on the heel of her curled fist, not answering at first. He got the feeling she’d rather hoped to avoid it altogether. At last, she raised her eyes from the fire and looked at them. More Donna than at him.

“I came for a holiday.” The look in her eye grew distant, thoughts suddenly somewhere far beyond the room. “Just needed some time away.”

_Time away from what, I wonder._


	7. Crossed Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We'll start with Donna, who is giving her impressions of the conversation that Lilith and the Doctor have been having. She's not sure what all went on, but does manage to get the former to admit to what she's up to in the present. Not surprisingly, the Doctor is not happy to hear that she's working for the Avengers. He did not have a great interaction with the gods of Asgard during a visit to their home world.
> 
> Lilith doesn't take too kindly to his criticism, but Donna will smooth it over and convince her to stay in Salzburg and help with the mystery of the missing children. The trio will head over to St. Johanns to begin sorting it out, where despite the surly reception by the staff, the Doctor discovers that Martha may have become one of the most recent victims.
> 
> We'll circle back with the Avengers to continue with their discovery that Time Lords are real. Thor will provide the other side of the encounter the Doctor mentioned when he and Loki are discussing their approach to the subject. And as for the God of Mischief...he stuns the whole team yet again when he gives his theory about whose TARDIS had been discovered in the Tower.

Donna was no fool. She could read between the lines enough to tell something had gone on between Lilith and the Doctor, even if neither of them were saying what it was. Asking them point blank about it would be easy. Getting answers, though- that was going to be a bit of a challenge. The Doctor was cagey enough about his past; her impression of Lilith thus far indicated that she was likely to be even worse.

_So if the direct approach won’t get me anywhere, I’ll just have to come at it sideways._

“We were supposed to be on holiday, too,” Donna replied with an eye roll. “But the TARDIS brought us here instead. Now spaceman has it in his mind to stay and sort out the rumors about missing kids.”

“So more of an adventure than a holiday.”

“Never a dull day travelling in that box of his.”

She stole a glance over to the Doctor, who continued to stand awkwardly just inside the room as if unable to make up his mind whether or not to sit. To her eye, he didn’t show any reaction at all. Hell, Donna wasn’t sure that he’d heard a word. Whoever Lilith had been, seeing her again had really thrown him off-stride. Even more than when he met River in the Library.

“I imagine not,” Lilith agreed with a funny sort of smile. “Have you travelled with the Doctor long?”

“A while, yeah.” After a pause, she queried, “So is there anyone you travel with?”

Lilith thought over the question for a minute. Out of the corner of her eye, Donna noted that the Doctor had gone over to one of the bookshelves and had pulled out a volume. Like he wasn’t interested. But she could tell by the way he peered over the binding that what the woman said would matter a good deal.

“I don’t.”

“No one? You don’t-”

“Travel. Not in the way you meant, anyway.”

Not the answer Donna was expecting. The Doctor was equally surprised by it- enough that he was obliged to comment. He slipped the book back into the shelf and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Then why have a TARDIS in the first place?”

She didn’t answer. Rather, Lilith’s silence answered for her, leaving Donna to wish that the two of them would just get whatever this was out in the open. She didn’t like that she was only party to half of the conversation. Nor did she like how he kept stalling it just when she was getting somewhere.

“What do you do, then, if you don’t travel,” she asked, pointedly ignoring the Doctor’s question. “I mean, what _does_ a Time Lord do when you stick around in one place?”

The woman’s lips curved into a bemused smile as she said, “We get a day job like anyone else.”

Donna just couldn’t picture the Doctor with a normal job. At least not unless he was using it as a cover to conduct an investigation. He _said_ he’d had times where he settled down into a more ‘normal’ life. Even spent several months living as a human when he and Martha were travelling together. But even that that had been a ruse to hide from the Family of the Blood. Not because he’d _wanted_ to settle down. Lilith, by contrast, had deliberately chosen a more sedentary lifestyle.

_So what kind of job would interest a Time Lord?_

“I bet you lot would be brilliant as history professors,” she suggested.

“Not as much as you’d think. I tried my hand at that for a while, but the department didn’t appreciate my occasional ‘corrections’ of what they all agreed was the true timeline of events. Wasn’t long before I felt it best to go our separate ways.”

“What did you do then?”

“This and that. I held a job driving a taxi for a few years- met quite the interesting set of characters that way.”

She was hedging, not wanting to get around to saying what she did _now_. Donna wondered why, guessing it had something to do with the Doctor. A quick peek at him showed that he suspected the same thing.

“Is there some reason you won’t say what you do now,” he stated bluntly.

Her reply was equally frank.

“You won’t like it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you don’t exactly get on that well with the people I work with.”

The Doctor’s reaction was almost instantaneous, scrunching up his whole face with a pained wince as he whined, “Oh you’re not with the bloody government over there, are you? They’re all a bunch of trigger-happy lunatics on that side of the pond.”

“No, not with the government.” She paused, took a breath and then admitted, “The Avengers.”

Lilith was right; the Doctor did _not_ like hearing that. Not one bit. His expression had gone deadpan, not a trace of humor. When he finally replied, absolute displeasure colored his every word.

“I rather you’d said it _was_ the government. You want to talk about trigger-happy lunatics, you couldn’t have picked a better way to describe _that_ lot.”

“Just what I knew you’d say.”

“Only because it’s true.”

The two Time Lords were gearing up for one hell of an argument if she didn’t do something to intervene. Donna worried that if the Doctor kept antagonizing the woman, she’d end up throwing them out without so much as a ‘by your leave’. Knowing him, he could easily wind up doing that without even trying. So she interjected with a question designed to draw his attention her way.

“So you’ve actually been in the Tower? Like, not just the downstairs lobby, but upstairs?”

It worked just as she’d hoped. Now the Doctor looked at her instead of Lilith, his expression no less severe.

“Not you, too. Donna, really. Tell me you’re not one of the fanatics.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘fanatic’, but you can’t dismiss that the Avengers have done some impressive things. Like that business a few years ago with those alien things in New York.” She dared press her point, knowing it was likely to annoy him all the more. “It’s just as well they _were_ here, since you _weren’t_.”

Rather than incite his temper, the Doctor shied away from the subject. Dodged it with a half-hearted excuse.

“I was a little busy at the time.”

Donna noticed he wasn’t eager to say with _what_. Nor was he willing to look her quite in the eye- Lilith, either. And as for the latter- her expression closed to an unreadable mask. Whatever the Doctor had been up to, she bet the other Time Lord knew of it. Knew and didn’t quite approve.

_Yet another subject I’d be wasting my time pursuing right now. Might as well stick to the one I’ve already started._

“What are they like,” Donna asked. “I mean, _really_ like?”

“Most of the time, they’re not much different than anyone else, really. Just people. Regular people.”

“Well, _some_ of them are people,” she agreed, ignoring the Doctor’s derisive snort. “I heard on the telly a while back that they’ve been hosting important out of town guests. Aside from yourself, I mean.”

“Out of town from _where_ exactly,” the Doctor demanded.

“Asgardians, of course. They’ve been in New York for I want to say three- maybe four- years. I remember watching the stories about it and thinking how strange it was for Asgard to be a real thing, you know? Hadn’t run into you and your police box yet, spaceman, so aliens and gods from another world just didn’t seem like they could be…”

Donna had kept talking, not quite realizing the tension building in the silence maintained by the other two members of the conversation. Her words trailed off as she caught the dark scowl on the Doctor’s face. If mentioning the Avengers hadn’t spoiled his mood enough. Apparently, he got along with the deities of Asgard even less.

_Do you get along with_ anyone _, spaceman?_

“ _Which_ Asgardians,” he queried; the question wasn’t directed at her. When Lilith didn’t answer, he repeated himself. “Which Asgardians are here on Earth?”

The woman sighed.

“Odinson is here.” After a pause, she added. “And so is Laufeyson.”

The Doctor swore.

“Are the Americans out of their minds? Allowing either of those two- Laufeyson in particular- back here after what almost happened _last_ time?”

Unfazed by his tirade, Lilith said patiently, “It’s not like they haven’t taken precautions. No one- Odinson and Laufeyson included- is interested in repeating the past. I can assure you that circumstances are different.”

Donna found the way Lilith defended the Avengers very interesting. And not just them. She’d been quick to defend the Asgardians as well. But what the woman meant by that last comment…Donna wasn’t sure how to interpret that. Nor did she know how the team of superheroes expected to prevent any mayhem from the God of Mischief.

_They seemed to have managed it, though. Four years. Not even the slightest trouble out of New York from that direction._

“Give it time,” he warned ominously. “Laufeyson has that advantage- he can afford to wait and play a long game.”

“Well, he wouldn’t be the only one, would he, Doctor?” she retorted with a touch of sarcasm.

* * *

_This is not a fight I’m going to win_ , the Doctor realized. _And it’s not one I should have started in the first place._

He had his reasons for his hostilities against the gods of Asgard. Good ones. He’d been to that planetoid- not this regeneration, but two or three back- and had a very trying interaction with them. Laufeyson in particular. The god had tried to steal his TARDIS. Damn near succeeded, too. And if he had, he would have wrought untold havoc on the whole of the universe. Far worse than the scheme Laufeyson had played out here on Earth.

_An offense I have not forgotten- or forgiven- as quickly as humans seem to have done._

But good reasons aside, the Doctor would have been served better not to have taken an antagonistic stance with Lilith on the subject. Arguing with her had been the wrong approach in the past; it was _definitely_ the wrong approach now.

_Didn’t need the reminder of how merciless she is when she fights back._

Not to mention accurate.

Like it or not, he had engineered a number of ‘long games’ over the course of his regenerations. With the best of intentions, naturally, but he could not deny that some of them didn’t always work out as planned. Lilith had been one where his miscalculations had cost him dearly; he still didn’t know where- or _how_ \- it had all gone so wrong.

If he wasn’t careful with how he replied, he might just find out the answer to that mystery. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he didn’t really want to know. And so the Doctor took the coward’s way out. Avoided answering her question and abruptly changed the subject. Rather, he side-stepped it.

“It’s more about thwarting the plans of _others_ \- like whomever is behind the mysterious disappearances here in Salzburg.”

Neither woman missed what he’d done. Donna’s expression bordered on exasperated, but Lilith’s remained eerily impassive. He recognized what she was doing, having witnessed it before. She was mentally tracing the paths of the potential outcomes that would follow whatever she said next. The desire to fidget beneath her green gaze was almost unbearable. 

And then she broke it, rising wordlessly from her chair. Lilith walked over to where she’d left her boots and set about putting them on again, shrugging into her jacket. The suspense proved to be too much for Donna.

“Were you going somewhere?”

“Not far. As the Doctor pointed out, the two of you have important work to do. And since we’ve said all there is to say to one another, the polite thing to do is to walk you out.”

With that, she left the study. Just like that- discussion over. Not even giving him the chance to recover from his mistake. Watching Lilith’s retreating back gave him a sense of déjà vu of their last argument, which had ended in much the same way. Nothing to do but follow. Take his leave and go. Hope that he wouldn’t spend the next several lifetimes replaying where he’d gone wrong.

He didn’t dare look at Donna, not wanting to invite her to comment.

Lilith was waiting for them to catch up on the far side of the central chamber. The snow outside hadn’t let up, and most of the shops had all closed. Fewer people milled around in the plaza than when they’d come in, sparing their little trio not even a glance as they hurried through the falling flakes. The Doctor faced Lilith and struggled with what to say. He was rubbish at saying goodbye.

She did it for him.

“Good luck, Doctor, though I don’t suppose you really need it. You always manage to sort things out.” _Not always, Lilith._ “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding those missing people.”

He might have left it at that, but then Donna chimed in.

“Oh, but weren’t you going to help? I mean- _two_ Time Lords would be better than one, don’t you think?”

Lilith had intended to do no such thing and they all knew it. Donna included. No doubt she’d asked the question in order to back her into a corner of sorts. To say no would sound selfish; offering to join them, however, came with…complications. His human companion could infer that even without knowing all the underlying reasons why. And had ignored it. In fact, she pressed harder.

“C’ _mon_. You’re already here. And it’s not like you have the excuse that you don’t have the time. What with your TARDIS, you could be here a month and they’d never know the difference. So why not give us a hand? Have a bit of an adventure yourself.”

He wasn’t sure how to interpret the odd look that came over Lilith’s face. Didn’t last long enough to read it. The Doctor recognized the one that followed, though, and knew she was about to say something he wouldn’t like.

“I’d say that depends on whether the Doctor wants the help or not.”

_Clever. Very clever,_ he thought resentfully. _Get_ me _to look like the bad guy._

Donna just beamed innocently. Likely pleased that as a mere human, she’d managed to outmaneuver two Time Lords. He wanted nothing more than to walk away from both women, get in his TARDIS and get as far from them as he could. Which was exactly what Lilith _expected_ him to do. So he went for the complete opposite, perversely determined to prove her wrong.

“I don’t see why not. The more the merrier, right?”

The corner just got a lot smaller. And seeing no way out of it, Lilith was resigned to accepting defeat. She offered an anemic smile and said, “Well, that settles it, doesn’t it?”

_I guess it does._

“That’s the spirit,” Donna replied encouragingly. Then she turned to him. “So, spaceman- where are we off to, then?”

“The hospital,” he answered with forced enthusiasm. “I was thinking it would be a good idea to have a look around. Right to the source.”

Lilith glanced back to the central chamber of her TARDIS.

“So…who’s driving? Or were we going separate?”

* * *

“You can’t seriously expect us to believe that,” Romanoff scoffed incredulously. “A race of beings that run around the universe hopping from past, present and future however they please.”

Thor exchanged a look with his brother. They knew from personal experience that Time Lords were a very unsettling reality. Something about knowing that your entire history could be rewritten without you even realizing it did not sit easy. If Gallifrey had ever decided to interfere on Asgard, they could have wiped out its entire pantheon of gods and goddesses.

_And it wouldn’t take much to convince one particular Time Lord to do it, either,_ Thor reminded himself as he faced the three mortals who all appeared to be waiting for an answer. But since Loki wasn’t inclined to be the one to give it, the burden fell to him instead.

“He’s telling the truth. Time Lords are real. We’ve…crossed paths before. On Asgard.”

No one spoke for a full minute, and then Stark leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head, murmuring, “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Who’s damning what?” That question from Hawk, who stood at the doorway with Cap beside him. “And what’s everyone doing in _here_ this morning?”

_Oh let’s try to avoid_ that _conversation if at all possible. Once had been difficult enough._

More difficult than he’d expected. While Thor had known Loki’s interest was more than the ‘passing affliction’ he’d tried to claim it was, he was as shocked as everyone else to hear him confess that he actually _loved_ the mortal. Maybe more so. But at least now he understood just how serious his brother was. And why he’d been so reluctant to discuss it with him before.

“Long story, Hawk,” Stark replied. And then in an uncharacteristic show of consideration for Loki, he bypassed the more painful subjects in favor of something neutral. “But at present, we’re borrowing Lilith’s office to solve a curious mystery concerning the Halloween party.”

Both archer and super-soldier edged further into the already cramped room. Maximoff squeezed in behind and Thor caught sight of Bruce hovering in the hall. The whole Tower was well awake and were congregating in the tiny office. Really wasn’t the right space to hold an official meeting with everyone on the team, and Stark must have realized that it had now come to that point. He got up from his chair.

“Hey, JARVIS- you want to queue up the video screens in the main conference room and port over the team feed? I think we ought to move this to a bigger venue now that everyone’s here.”

“Of course, sir.”

They all filed out of the room. Thor noted that Loki lingered behind to be the last, and held up to join him at the back of the group. With the rest of them preoccupied with the discovery that Time Lords were real, he felt reasonably safe in addressing a topic the two of them needed to discuss before getting to the conference room.

“You don’t suppose _he_ came to New York on our account,” Thor asked under his breath. “Or rather- on _your_ account?”

Loki glanced sideways at him, an odd half-smile on his lips as he replied, “It was my understanding from my previous encounter with the Doctor that he would not be interested in allowing me to gain control of his TARDIS. Why would he bring it to the Tower and provide me with an opportunity to try again?”

“He also said that he wouldn’t tolerate any repeated attempts to interfere on Midgard, if you recall.”

“Hearsay, as he didn’t deliver the message to me personally. But I am willing to concede that the Time Lord may have said it to you.”

His brother’s mood had done a complete one-eighty in the space of ten minutes. Maybe having finally gotten all that out in the open had lanced some of the pain he’d been holding in the past few months. Whatever the reason, Thor found it all the more irksome that Loki would pick this moment to engage in his fondness for nettling banter.

“Can we have a serious conversation? Surely you can agree that it’s not _impossible_ that he could have been here as a warning.”

“I would, but then I ask you- a warning to what purpose? None of us were aware of a Time Lord’s presence in the Tower until nearly two months passed.”

He had a point. It just didn’t make sense. What could the Doctor have been after? Why did he not announce himself when he was here? And then to leave again without any sign. Thor just didn’t like it. Not one bit. He regarded Loki speculatively.

“You have your own theory, I suppose.”

“Yes.”

And that’s all Loki said. Thor waited a full minute before realizing his brother didn’t intend to tell him anything more. Nor did they have the time; they’d arrived at the conference room. Before Loki could step inside, he blocked the door with his arm. His brother shot him a look of irritation.

“What _now_?”

Thor dropped his voice to just above a whisper.

“How much do you think we ought to tell them?”

“About?”

“They have no idea the sort of power that man wields, or what he’s capable of doing. So how much do we _really_ tell them?”

“I suppose that would depend on how likely you think they’re going to wind up opposing the Time Lord’s vision of the universe.”

Advice that really didn’t help with making a decision either way. The Doctor was equally likely to approve- or _disapprove_ \- of actions taken by the team. In the case of the latter…they really should be aware of the storm the Time Lord could bring down on their planet. A point he might have made if Stark hadn’t interrupted by poking his head out into the hall.

“Hey, we can’t have a discussion about Time Lords without the people who’ve actually _seen_ them. Are you two joining us or what?”

“We were just-” the mortal had already disappeared again, leaving before Thor could finish his sentence- “talking.”

Why did he even bother trying to explain anything? Thor turned back to Loki, intending to continue where they left off. Only by the time he did, his brother had already ducked under his outstretched arm to enter the conference room without a backward glance. A clear indication that as far as _he_ was concerned, their discussion was over. Thor let out a rumbling sigh.

“Dammit.”

Left with no alternative, he followed suit and took a seat at the long table. Didn’t mean he didn’t direct a disapproving glare the god’s way. For all the good it did him; Loki blatantly ignored it. And once everyone was situated, Hawk was the first to resume the conversation.

“So what’s this about Time Lords being real, then?”

“Just that,” Thor answered with a shrug. “Gallifrey was a real planet, home to a race capable of manipulating time.”

“And they seriously travel around in a spaceship made to look like a blue police box?”

“Well, one does.”

Thor hadn’t quite meant that to be funny, but his reply was met with a round of chuckles. Mortals, he’d found, often laughed at the oddest moments. For all the time he’d spent with them, he hadn’t quite become accustomed to their peculiar sense of humor.

“And the others,” Cap wanted to know. “How do they get around?”

“As far as we know, there aren’t any. The planet burned in a Time War against another alien race called the Daleks. According to the Doctor, he’s the only one who escaped.”

“Okay, so the Doctor is real. And now you’re saying the Daleks are real.” Hawk shook his head, perplexed. “What’s with the TV show angle, then? Why play it off like he’s a fictional character? Wouldn’t it be better if everyone knew the truth?”

A few of the others cast dubious looks around the table. Not surprisingly, Loki was the one to state the obvious when no one else would.

“You’ve met yourselves, right?”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Mortals don’t have the best track record with meeting new species of life. Or other mortals, for that matter.”

“What my brother is trying to say,” Thor interjected, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Is that the Doctor has reason to be cautious. After all, he’s the last one left of his race.”

“So he said,” Loki remarked with a shrug. Thor did not like the tone he’d used. It sounded as though...

“Are you saying he lied,” Romanoff asked before he could finish that thought.

“Lied? No. The Time Lord was very careful not to do that. Let’s just say that it’s possible he could have been mistaken.”

“As in…other Time Lords survived this ‘Time War’?”

“If one did, why couldn’t others? How could he be so _sure_ no one else survived?”

A very long pause followed, as everyone considered the merits of Loki’s theory. On Thor’s part, he wasn’t too keen on it being true. And he _definitely_ didn’t want to think that other parts of the British TV show could be accurate on this particular subject. Bad enough to deal with the Doctor; discovering that his nemesis, the Master, wasn’t just a fictional invention would be ten times worse.

“I guess it’s plausible,” Stark conceded. “But let’s circle back to the original point of this whole discussion. I still want to know what the Doctor’s TARDIS was doing in _my_ Tower.”

“And what I’m saying is that I don’t think it belonged to the Doctor.”

“Well, who _did_ it belong to?”

Silence. Everyone waited for what Loki would say.

“Lilith.”

* * *

If given the opportunity to travel separately, the Doctor suspected Lilith would simply disappear. No, however they got to their destination, it’d have to be as a group. But as for travelling by TARDIS…he wasn’t all that enthusiastic about taking either of them. In truth, it’d be best if they went the long way. One of the rules of investigating anything- keep the magic, time travelling box far out of the way of any potential threats.

At his lack of reply, she posed a solution of her own.

“Why don’t we just take mine for the time being? If we need yours, I can always bring us back to fetch it.”

“Or we could just walk,” he suggested. They both stared at him, then out to the heavily falling snow, and then back. He read their answer without them uttering a word. “Yeah, that’s not happening, is it?”

“Not on your life,” Donna told him. “I just got these boots last week, and I’m not trudging around in ankle-deep slush in them.”

“At a time like this- you’re worried about footwear. Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. And you ought to think more about yours. In those sand shoes you’re wearing, your socks will be soaked through in less than a block.”

“So?”

Lilith left them to their debate and backtracked to the controls. Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw she was shaking her head in bemusement. And maybe that was Donna’s aim- to diffuse some of the tension. She raised an eyebrow at him and offered a half-smug smile before circling around.

Already at the central console, Lilith queried over her shoulder, “Which hospital?”

“St. Johanns.”

He watched- feeling somewhat useless as a mere bystander- while Lilith fired up her TARDIS. It came to life and whisked them across the city almost before he’d realized that they’d moved. Donna was downright skeptical when Lilith announced they were at their destination.

“But…it didn’t make the noise,” she protested.

“Noise? What noise?”

“I don’t know- his does it all the time. Sort of a roaring, mechanical whine.”

Donna did her best to imitate it and perhaps succeeded a little too well. Lilith rounded on him, incredulous.

“You leave the _parking_ brake on?” Donna snickered. “I would have thought by now you would know how to turn off the parking brake of all things.”

The Doctor did his best, he couldn’t completely hide the slightly embarrassed flush in his cheeks as he stammered, “It’s not- I mean I could,” he gestured to the door. “Can we not just focus on what’s important here?”

Lilith pulled a lever and locked it in place, and then balanced one hip against the main console and crossed her arms.

“One question.”

“Oh what _now_?”

“I’d like to be on the same page before we step out those doors. What’s your angle for getting into this place?”

It was a good question; unfortunately, he didn’t have much of an answer. One hand raked through his hair as he admitted, “Hadn’t really thought of one, actually. I usually just sort of-”

“Wing it?” She shook her head and sighed. “Have you at least some _plausible_ reason three random people would show up?”

He thought for a moment.

“Inspectors from some agency always works. Oldie but a goodie. And gives an excuse to poke around. Ask questions- though it’s probably best not to ask about the missing children up front. Work our way around to it.”

Lilith nodded, and then just stared at him expectantly for a minute or two before he realized she was waiting for him to lead the way.

“Right. Allons y.”

The three of them emerged into the side alley between two buildings. Lilith’s TARDIS had disguised itself as a dumpster, blending in with the line of others as if it had always been there. She swung the panel serving as a door in place and snapped a padlock through the latch. After locking it with a key, she tucked that back beneath her cardigan and buttoned up her coat.

The hospital was relatively quiet at this hour; only one person sat behind the reception desk. He glanced up from his screen, eyes landing on the Doctor with a bland expression of welcome.

“Can I help you?”

The Doctor withdrew his psychic paper from his inside jacket pocket and held it up for the man to see as he introduced himself, “Smith. From BASG. My colleagues and I are here to conduct an inspection.”

“Inspection!” The man’s eyes rounded. “No one from upstairs said a thing about expecting you.”

He smiled and rested an elbow on the counter.

“Likely because they weren’t aware we were coming. Sort of a requirement for a surprise inspection.”

“Right. Er…did you need me to call for anyone in particular?”

“Who is the chief resident on staff for the evening?”

“I think it’s Reiter, but I haven’t seen Steinbauer leave for the day. They might have traded off. I’ll page them both to the desk, just to be sure.”

The Doctor drummed his fingers against the counter while the receptionist called Reiter and Steinbauer to the front desk. It was always hard to just stand still; he’d always struggled against the restless energy that kept him in perpetual motion. More so in this regeneration than some of the others, but it had always been there.

At last, a woman in her late forties emerged from behind the wide double doors to the right of the desk. She strode to the group and spared a glance to the receptionist, demanding, “What’s all this, Rausch?”

“Inspectors, Dr. Reiter. Mr. Smith and these other two. Here from BASG.”

A momentary flash of irritation and then her features smoothed back into place again.

“Why did you page Steinbauer? He isn’t on shift tonight.”

“I wasn’t sure if he was or wasn’t. He hasn’t left, according to the system,” Rausch answered as he checked his monitor.

Reiter couldn’t hide her alarm in hearing _that_ piece of news. Nor was she happy to have it broadcast in front of three inspectors. Which likely explained why she pretended it wasn’t an issue and didn’t ask the receptionist any follow-up questions. Instead, she shifted focus to the Doctor.

“An inspection you say. Unusual to have anyone from your office turn up so late.”

“We thought it might be easier to accommodate us with less people around,” Donna supplied when he hesitated.

The woman didn’t look all that convinced, regarding them with slightly narrowed eyes. And then she shrugged.

“Where do you want to begin?”

He let Donna handle answering that question. She had the knack for the ins and outs of digging into personnel and such. In fact, she’d been the one to uncover some of the stranger anomalies when they were investigating ATMOS.

“Staff. Interviews and such. Then we’ll have a look around your wards and the file keeping.” Donna smiled. “If that’s all right with you.”

* * *

It wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

I could tell right away that Reiter wanted to be rid of us as soon as humanly possible. She definitely didn’t want us poking around her hospital- or talking to the staff. But she couldn’t tell us to piss off, and so she clenched her jaw and nodded.

“Of course. If you’ll follow me, we’ll start with the other residents on the evening shift.”

We passed through the double doors and walked down a large, well-lit corridor. On either side, closed doors belonging to various exam rooms and supply closets marked our passage at regular intervals. The Doctor kept his attention on Reiter.

“How many?”

“Six. Well,” she paused with an irritated huff. “I suppose it’s seven, technically. But Jones only arrived two weeks ago from London. She’s still acclimating to the routine here at St. Johanns.”

He ground to a full stop at the name ‘Jones’. Reiter paused and turned around in question as to the sudden hold-up.

“Is there a problem?”

“Jones, you said. From London?”

“Yes. Martha Jones. She is part of the exchange program on loan to us for six months while one of our residents spends that time at a hospital in London.”

_He knows the woman._ I studied his expression carefully, picking out the little ‘tells’ that someone less familiar with him might miss. Somewhat of a challenge, given that this face was very different from the one I’d known on Gallifrey. But they were still there. _He knew her quite well, indeed._

As did Donna.

_I’ll guess that this Martha likely travelled with him for a time, but not anymore._ I had to wonder what she was doing here, then. If she was a doctor, participating in this sort of program might have absolutely nothing to do with the mysterious disappearances of late. Could be coincidence in timing. _I highly doubt it._

Reiter didn’t concern herself over his inquiry, and led on as if her answer resolved the matter. We continued our way through the maze of corridors until she stopped outside a closed door and pressed her badge to the card reader. The lock released with an audible click, allowing her to turn the knob and push the door open to reveal a large office.

After scanning the room, the physician queried in mild impatience, “Where is Jones?” A few apathetic shrugs. Reiter’s annoyance shifted to agitation. “She was supposed to shadow one of you this evening.”

“Jones and Steinbauer left together a few hours ago,” one of them answered finally. “I assumed she wasn’t on shift tonight when neither of them came back.”

“You-” the woman held back what sounded like a mild curse. “What have I told you all? One hundred percent accountability at all times. _Never_ assume. So what about my instructions weren’t clear?”

Chagrined looks from the rest of the staff, but no one was willing to give an answer. I suspected that the presence of three unfamiliar people had something to do with their reticence. They cast nervous glances at us, and even Reiter seemed to prefer a lack of response on the part of her staff once she remembered we were there. The Doctor took the awkward silence as his cue to speak up.

“By all means,” he insisted. “Don’t stop the conversation on our account. We’re here to observe, after all. I’m sure my colleagues and I will be most interested to see how you resolve this matter.”

The words sounded calm, but I heard the underlying anger that had prompted them. No doubt fueled by the fear that Martha might have joined the list of those who went missing in this place. An assumption not without merit if what the receptionist had said was true. Steinbauer hadn’t left and yet neither he nor Martha had been seen for several hours.

_Not the best of omens._

When no one spoke, the Doctor muttered to himself and fumbled with the pocket of his long overcoat. After a minute, he withdrew a cellphone and sent out a call. A half-second later, everyone jumped at the shrill ring emanating from one of the tall, narrow lockers on the far wall. Not lowering the phone from his ear, the Doctor crossed the room. From another pocket, he pulled out what looked like a…screwdriver?

Aiming it at the lock, he pressed a switch. The screwdriver emitted a sonic pulse that released the lock. The door swung open, allowing him to reach inside. In his hand he held a second cellphone- presumably Martha’s. The ringing had ceased just as he held it up to read the display. On his end of the line, I could hear the faint sound of an automated voicemail greeting.

The Doctor ended his call without leaving a message. He regarded Reiter with an implacable stare.

“Where have most of the disappearances been reported?”

_I guess we’re switching to the direct approach ahead of schedule._

Not exactly the plan we’d agreed upon before coming in here, but given the circumstances, I wasn’t going to argue with him about sticking to the script. We didn’t have the time for it. Not if we hoped to discover what became of Martha and Steinbauer before it was too late. If it wasn’t already. And as for Reiter, the physician’s complexion had whitened to match the bleached muslin of her lab coat.

“D-d-disappearances?” she managed to stammer out after a brief moment of tense silence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

A lie. She knew _exactly_ what he was talking about. Knew and was desperate to keep the Doctor from asking about it. He, of course, bulldozed right over her protest, in no mood to be trifled with.

“Yes you do. The children- almost a dozen of them so far. And after what I’ve just heard, I’d be willing to bet you’ve lost members of your staff as well.”

Reiter clung to her denial, protesting, “Those are just unsubstantiated rumors.”

“Rumors.”

“As the hospital has explained numerous times, we’ve had to quarantine some of our patients to prevent an outbreak of a highly contagious disease. A few members of our staff were unfortunately exposed, and had to be quarantined as well, but I assure you that no one has gone _missing._ ”

A beat of silence.

“Show them to me.”

“What?”

“These ‘quarantined’ patients of yours. Show me to them.”

“Now?”

“Of course now.”

The woman hedged, clearly trying to think of an excuse why it wouldn’t be possible to comply. The Doctor waited her out, though his patience was wearing thin very quickly. And then the woman squared her shoulders. She must have found one.

“Visitors to the quarantine ward must be given the appropriate clearance from the hospital administration. I regret to say that no one is available at this hour to review the merits of your request.” She smiled stiffly. “If you wish to see the ward, you will have to return tomorrow morning and speak with the director.”

Admirable. Most people would be deterred by the mention of bureaucratic red tape; the Doctor was not. He kept his gaze fixed on Reiter.

“You really don’t want to take that approach,” he warned the woman. “Not with me. Not right now.”

_You’ve changed, Doctor._

I’d never heard _that_ tone in his voice when we’d known one another on Gallifrey. The tone that conveyed he was dangerous. That he wasn’t above threatening others to get his way. No, that wasn’t anything like the sensitive- although sometimes brooding- young man I’d dreamed of travelling the universe with all those years ago.

_More like the man capable of burning his home world._

“Now I’ll ask you again- think carefully on how you’ll answer. Where have most of the disappearances been reported?”

Reiter’s eyes closed in defeat and her whole posture changed. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and whispered, “The east corridor, closest to the north side of the building. Mostly in rooms with a window.”

“Excellent. I’ll be having a look around, then.”

She shook her head fearfully.

“Mr. Smith- you _can’t_. It’s dangerous to be roaming the halls at night. Especially alone.”

“Then it’s a good thing I won’t be going alone.” He cut a glance to Donna and me. “Right?”


	8. Explanation, Theory and Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, Martha and Karl will get to see the children's ward, where they find the patients who have gone missing in Salzburg. Martha will also reveal her more about her time-travelling past and the Doctor. But we'll have to leave them just as they're beginning to interact with the children and shift back to the present.
> 
> The Doctor, Donna and Lilith are investigating the hospital, joined by the chief resident on duty for the evening, Dr. Reiter, head up to the wing where it all began. He'll have to explain to Donna why he can't use the TARDIS to travel back and 'fix' things. And then everyone's day is ruined when they discover the Weeping Angels. But the four of them manage to come up with a strategy after Donna gets the two Time Lords to focus on the problem at hand instead of their problems with one another.
> 
> And it's back to the Tower. Loki will have to explain to everyone why he suddenly thinks Lilith is a Time Lord. Especially after his behavior of the past two months. And when the group gets to wondering why a Time Lord is living in the Tower in the first place, he'll be the one to provide what turns out to be quite the amusing answer. Well, at least Stark will get some amusement out of it...

Dr. Sperber led the two of them down a corridor before pushing through a set of double doors. A room a third the size of the main ward awaited them on the other side. In it, Martha had expected to see just the half-dozen or so missing children; almost twenty haunted faces stared back at her. Attentive. Wary- their eyes bereft of all hope. If only eleven children had disappeared from St. Johanns, then where had all of these others come from? Until Sperber left, that would remain an unanswered question.

Martha kept her focus on the children. Most of them appeared to be sedated and restrained. A few had the freedom to move, but they appeared too weak to even leave their beds. One had a cast on her right leg. Altogether, the patients made for a pathetic sight; it was nearly Martha’s undoing. She fought the lump forming at the base of her throat, sure that any sign of distress from her would convince Sperber to have her removed from the hospital- no matter _what_ Karl had said.

A boy around seven or eight raised his head from the pillow of his cot. From across the room, Martha saw recognition flare in his eyes as they landed on Karl. Although his restraints kept his arms at his sides, the boy called out to them in a strained, childlike cry. Repeated ‘Doctor’ several times, but thankfully, did not seem to recall a surname. Several others grew more animated in response, causing Sperber to turn around. The doctor shook his head.

“You see, the poor unfortunates are quite unstable. We’ve had to use the straps to prevent them from trying to escape the ward. They claimed to be looking for a ‘way back to their own time’.”

Martha said nothing as Karl stumbled over his own reply. He dragged his eyes away from the little boy and agreed hoarsely, “The city is too dangerous a place for them to be on their own.”

“And vice versa,” Sperber added with a sharp glance. “We can’t afford to allow their madness to spread to others.”

Madness. Yes, she could well understand why the people of this time would immediately perceive the children’s stories as delusions. Claiming to be from a future time without a shred of evidence to prove it. At least nothing anyone would easily recognize.

_Or might intentionally disregard,_ she thought behind her impassive mask. _Far more convenient to dismiss them as crazy._

Honestly, she wasn’t sure which she preferred. Being labeled as ‘crazy’ might be safer than to be believed. Here their illnesses were cared for- albeit very primitively in her opinion. If anyone suspected that these children could accurately predict the future, they could fare far worse. Pumped for all the information they could give and exploited until they were of no further use and discarded. Possibly killed outright.

Martha could only imagine the disasters that could arise. They could rewrite the course of the next several decades and beyond- irreparably alter the whole universe. Just the thought of it gave her chills.

“I expect it will be a long road to recovering their health,” Karl acknowledged solemnly, pulling her thoughts back to the present. “Physical and mental.”

“That it will be. In some cases, I am doubtful for a full recovery- in either respect. But that is why I requested a specialist in pediatrics from Wien. So I shall leave these patients to your expertise, Dr. Steinbauer.”

Karl, bless him, didn’t bat an eyelash, adopting the assumed role foisted upon him as if he’d been time travelling all his life. He nodded and assured the other physician, “I am confident that where god wills it, I shall succeed. But as a first order of business, I’d like to review any preliminary diagnoses that have been made so far.”

“Of course. This way.”

Sperber led them to a utilitarian desk that had seen better days and opened the top drawer of a matching, battered filing cabinet standing next to it. Inside, a pathetically thin row of hanging folders, one for each patient in the ward. Karl selected Pieter Dichter and paged through it; Martha caught only a brief glance, but it looked as though the children hadn’t even been believed about their own identities. The note written in a bold, slanting script next to Pieter’s name read ‘unverified’.

“I must be getting back to my patients. If you require anything we will do our best to procure it. Keep in mind that supplies are scarce, and we have _priorities_ to consider.”

_Meaning orphaned and presumed mentally unstable children aren’t at the top of your list._

Karl heard the message, too. He didn’t like it by any means, but provided the only response he could in this situation.

“Yes, I understand.”

“As a final word of advice- I recommend if you do need something, that you request it yourself.” Sperber’s eyes had fallen square on Martha as he added, “The other staff at St. Johanns may not be quite so tolerant of your… _assistant._ ”

The slight emphasis on ‘assistant’ might have implied that he assumed they were sleeping together. But then again, it might just be his disdain that a colleague would lower himself to work with someone of her race. In this era, one could hardly guess which way he meant it. Martha willed herself to keep silent and ignore the insult. She didn’t have the Doctor to swoop in with the TARDIS to take her back to her own time if she got into trouble. 

That wasn’t to say that Sperber’s comment went unchallenged. Karl raised an eyebrow imperiously at the other physician that he dared presume to offer him advice and delivered a particularly scathing, “I think I know how to manage my business, Dr. Sperber.”

* * *

Martha was here. Or at least she _had_ been here. He should have guessed that U.N.I.T. would have their fingers in something like this. Probably should have thought to call her when he read the first story about missing children. If he had…

_If I had, maybe she and Dr. Steinbauer might not have wound up missing._

The Doctor felt a nip of guilt, even though he couldn’t have known Martha might be in danger. He still felt responsible. She might not be his travelling companion anymore- had gone on to save the world in her own way, as Sarah Jane had done- but he still felt protective of the people who’d wandered into his life once they’d gone on. Didn’t like feeling as though he’d let them down.

_Haven’t let her down yet. It’s not over until it’s over._

“So, I’m curious why we can’t just hop back in Lilith’s TARDIS and pop back in a few hours ago,” Donna queried. “Actually, that’s a question I’ve had a lot of times. Why you don’t just jump backwards once you realize what _caused_ the problem in the first place. Stop it at the source.”

A question he’d heard often enough. Every companion he’d ever travelled with asked it eventually. It was only a matter of time before Donna did the same. The Doctor tried not to be annoyed; it wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t a Time Lord and didn’t have the fundamental understanding of time that he did. That she didn’t bear the burden of knowing how futile that question really was.

He glanced at Reiter’s back as the physician strode ahead of them. The Doctor gave the woman points for volunteering herself as the fourth member of their expedition, even though he’d tried to talk her out of it. It’d just be one more person for him to look after. But she’d insisted that she be part of the investigation, leaving him with the impression that her initially hostile act was just a façade. Reiter cared about her patients and her staff, and had been trying to do her best to protect them from whatever was wrong with this place.

Having her here, though, made now an awkward time for Donna to have asked this particular question. Especially if they’d hoped to maintain some illusion that they were who they claimed to be. One look at Donna told him that she wasn’t going to be put off about getting her answer. He’d just have to take the risk of whatever Reiter might think of it.

“Time doesn’t work that way.”

“What way?”

The Doctor struggled to explain something so complex in terms she could understand. It was so hard to put into words the things he just… _knew_.

“It’s a lot harder to determine a ‘source’ as you call it and isolate it enough to fix something that happens later- even by a few hours. So many interdependencies- the alternate paths of every choice every person has ever made. Unraveling all that backwards to a single point is nearly impossible if you’re hoping to get it right.” After a momentary pause, he admitted, “Even for a Time Lord.”

Donna’s muted ‘Oh’ served only as a stepping stone as he continued on.

“And even if I _could_ , I’d have to weigh in what _else_ I’d affect by changing the one thing I intended. It’s possible to create an even _worse_ trajectory for the universe.”

A statement more true than he wanted to admit. The Doctor’s thoughts turned back to his misadventures on Satellite 5 with Rose. He’d _thought_ he’d been setting the universe back on track when they’d visited the first time and he’d battled the nefarious Editor and his Jagrafess overlord. In reality, he’d just set up the right conditions for the Daleks to swoop in. Nearly helped cause the obliteration of every human on Earth in his attempt to set _that_ right.

_And if not for Rose…I would have destroyed myself in the process._

The Doctor pushed those thoughts aside to make his final point.

“Lastly- and perhaps most importantly- a Time Lord does _not_ cross over his or her own timeline. Dangerous enough if we get careless enough to do that with a human, but for someone like me…one false move and I rip the fabric of time itself apart.”

The conversation had taken the better part of ten minutes, and by the time he’d finished with that last point, Reiter had pulled to a stop. Fortunately, she seemed to have been too occupied with her own thoughts to have paid any attention to their conversation. The woman had gotten edgier the closer they’d come to this part of the hospital. Even now, her eyes darted to the shadowy corners as she announced to him that they had arrived at their intended destination.

“I get the feeling this part of the building hasn’t been occupied in a while,” he remarked.

“After the first patients disappeared, we began clearing the others out of this wing. The hospital administration used the excuse that it was planning to renovate some of its oldest sections.”

“Let me guess- people continued to disappear?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Which of these belonged to one of the missing children?”

Reiter nodded to a door on her left, indicating, “Erika Schachmann had been assigned to that one. She was one of the first.”

The four of them filed into the room, Reiter leading and the Doctor taking up the rear. He couldn’t take the chance of letting Lilith out of his sight. She’d remained a silent observer the second they’d stepped out of her TARDIS, and he still didn’t trust that she would see this through to the end. Until he’d sorted out why people in this hospital were disappearing, he didn’t want to wonder if Lilith made the decision to leave, or if she’d become another victim.

From inside, everything appeared perfectly ordinary. Nothing out of place or disturbed. No sign of a struggle. The Doctor’s eyes landed on the bedside table, where a framed photo of a young, blonde-haired girl stood grinning next to someone in a Minnie Mouse costume. In the background, he could make out the iconic Disney World castle. Likely a vacation photo taken before little Erika had found herself unlucky enough to be in this hospital.

“I’m surprised you left this here. Wouldn’t the family wonder why it wasn’t moved to the so-called ‘quarantine’ ward when Erika was brought there?” he queried, pointing to the photo.

“We saw no need to make the pretense in this case. Schachmann’s parents were killed in the auto crash that shattered her right leg. Her grandparents live in Tyrol and have not been able to make the journey here.”

A sad story that continued to get sadder. The Doctor pushed on to say, “When she disappeared, was anything taken?”

“Nothing. Well,” she rethought her answer. “Just the little stuffed cat that a friend had brought from the family home. Erika kept it with her at all times. Now that you mention it, I don’t recall seeing the toy anywhere after she disappeared.”

He listened to Reiter’s recitation while pacing the room- looking for some kind of clue about what might have become of the girl. In hopes of finding inspiration, he glanced out the window to the darkened cityscape beyond. The Doctor loved the look of old cities like this- the eclectic collection of buildings constructed in different times and influenced by the culture of the period. Which was how a modern building like this hospital stood across from a church that had been built several centuries earlier.

With the arrival of night over the city, the latter’s grand façade had been lit from below by amber-hued spotlights. They shone directly on the four massive columns to provide dramatic illumination of the four statues perched on top. Every feature stood out in stark relief- and might have instilled awe to anyone else; the Doctor felt something far different as he stared, unbelieving, at the four bowed heads. He gripped the window sill tightly, instantly recognizing them for what they really were.

_No. Not you again._

“Doctor?” Donna came to stand beside him. “Doctor, is something the matter?”

_And if Martha has gone missing, that means you’ve already sent her back._

“Doctor?”

_I won’t even know_ when _to look for her._

“Oi, spaceman.”

He was jolted back to the present at Donna’s irritated snap, but managed to keep his eyes on the Weeping Angels. Couldn’t afford to look away now; they’d know they’d been spotted.

“What is your problem?”

“Not mine. Everyone’s problem,” he replied grimly. “I think I’ve just found an explanation for the missing patients.”

“We’ve only been in this room for five minutes.”

“Five minutes too long.”

Reiter joined them at the window, darting a sideways glance at him before daring to ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?” He nodded to the church across the street. The physician followed his gaze and then turned back to him. “The statues? What do they have to do with anything?”

“Everything, Dr. Reiter. They have _everything_ to do with the trouble in this place. I’m afraid this city is playing host to Weeping Angels.”

* * *

At first, he thought the Trickster was trying to pull one over on the team. Lilith…a _Time Lord_? Tony had a difficult time picturing the woman getting mixed up in the types of adventures he associated with the ‘Doctor’ of the BBC TV show. Wouldn’t have pegged her as the type to enjoy all of that chaos and unpredictability. Not with her acute fixation on schedules and planning things down to the last detail. Random trips to other planets- not to mention other times- just didn’t fit. Hell, she rarely left New York during the last three years.

_How would you know? She could disappear for years at a time and yet to you it would appear that she never left._

He could see a similar line of thinking passing through the minds of the rest of the team. Pepper’s expression was particularly telling; no doubt she was thinking about Lilith’s comment. Two weeks. If she really was a Time Lord as Loki claimed, two weeks could be spun out into an unfathomable length of time. They would have no real way of knowing how long she’d actually been gone.

_But how is he so_ sure _that’s what she is?_

“All right, since no one is asking, I will,” Hawk remarked. “Why are you so certain Lilith’s a Time Lord?”

“She told me.”

“I beg your pardon- she what?”

“At the Halloween party while we were out on the terrace. You had all gone back inside.”

Flabbergasted, everyone stared back at the god. If she’d told him about this then, the past six weeks made no sense. Nor did the discussion they’d just had in Lilith’s office. Tony couldn’t reconcile which conversation to believe, given that he appeared to be telling the truth in both cases. And yet both statements _couldn’t_ be true. So which was she- mortal or Time Lord?

_I guess it’ll be up to me to ask._

“If you knew all that, then why go through the explanation about Asgard and mortals if you knew she wasn’t one?”

“Because I’d assumed at the time that she hadn’t been serious,” he confessed with an ironic smile and a half-shrug. “It was a costume party and I thought she was just playing to her character when she offered to show me her TARDIS.”

Okay, he could see how that kind of invitation might have been misunderstood. Tony might have thought the same thing if she’d said it to him. But it was surprising to hear that Loki hadn’t been able to see it as a genuine attempt on her part. Or to find out that he hadn’t at least called her bluff before dismissing it. A point he decided to make.

“Rather surprised you didn’t take her up on the offer, just to see what she’d say next. What _did_ you do?”

All traces of humor left the god’s face as he replied, “I laughed it off as a joke and congratulated her on the convincing portrayal of River Song. Goaded her into trying it out on other guests to see if any of them would believe her.”

Several people in the room drew in a sharp breath, recognizing instantly the kind of tactical error that had been on the Trickster’s part. The picture was definitely becoming much clearer; it wasn’t a pretty one. Lilith had probably thought Loki would have known she was telling the truth. Tony could only imagine the message she’d taken away when he’d played it off as a joke.

_You sure got yourself into a mess, didn’t you?_

And Loki knew it. Likely knew he might have plunged a verbal knife in his chances with the woman. Which was why Tony held back the sarcastic remark that hovered on the tip of his tongue. He could give the Trickster grief about most anything…but torturing him about genuine feelings struck him as unnecessarily cruel. Nor was it any fun, really.

Nat broke the silence to ask a question that took them down a different path.

“So, let’s assume that you’re right, and Lilith _is_ a Time Lord. Why would someone like that hang around here- why pretend to be human at all?”

Thor turned to Loki and offered a possible answer, querying, “You don’t suppose _he_ sent her here to keep an eye on you?”

“Who sent her?”

“The Doctor,” Thor replied without looking away. “Seriously, Brother, he might have gone to such lengths to keep watch over Midgard.”

“If you recall, he was under the impression that he was the last of the Time Lords. How could he send someone he didn’t know existed?”

“Is this about the Chitauri thing,” Cap asked. “I guess that might warrant additional supervision, but-”

“Loki tried to steal the Doctor’s TARDIS.”

_Why am I not surprised in the least?_

He wasn’t the only one who took that news in stride. Well, maybe not in _stride_ , given that the idea of Loki with the ability to appear anywhere and anywhen in the universe was not a thought that sat easy on the mind. But no one saw his attempt to swipe a TARDIS as anything unusual.

“Let me guess,” Tony drawled, “This is related to what you said earlier about ‘crossing paths’ on Asgard?”

“It was one of my more rebellious moments,” the Trickster admitted with no show of remorse. “One that convinced the Time Lord that he ought to guard against a repeat of the offense in the future.” His expression turned thoughtful as he added, “Or the past.”

“All the more reason why it wouldn’t make sense that he would be behind Lilith’s presence in the Tower, then,” Nat pointed out. “Why chance you’d find out she was a Time Lord and discover where she kept _her_ TARDIS?”

“True.”

“Okay, so this Doctor didn’t send her,” Hawk concluded. “Then why _is_ she here?”

The room fell silent. No one could think of an answer to that question. Why would a Time Lord choose to spend her day combing through fan mail and scheduling the lives of a handful of humans? Tony really didn’t find comfort in the idea that she might have a _reason_ for being here- that this might all be part of something much bigger that they didn’t understand.

_Just who_ is _Lilith Morgan?_

Loki’s bemused chuckle broke into his thoughts and drew Thor’s attention. The Thunder god shot him a disgruntled look and asked, “Something funny, Brother?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, there is.”

“Care to enlighten the rest of us?”

“You all seem convinced that there’s some deep, dark reason behind why she’s come to the Tower.” He smirked and shook his head. “Lilith and I were talking about it several months ago. She told me herself that she took this job because she knew her parents wouldn’t approve- that they’d be annoyed that she’s wasting her time on something so trivial.”

After a few seconds where the team gaped at him, Hawk finally said with a snort, “Like a damned teenager getting a nose ring or a tattoo.”

Tony couldn’t help himself, and the words were out before he could bite them back.

“Or dating the class bad boy?”

Everyone cast a look at Loki, even though they all tried _not_ to. As for the god himself, he directed his gaze right at Tony. Clearly annoyed at having been compared to piercings and tattoos, and yet not quite able to deny the part about ‘class bad boy’. He dared the Trickster to try, raising an eyebrow at him. Forgetting for the moment that he was supposed to be behaving himself. Pepper saw fit to remind him.

“Tony!” she chided him with a smack on the arm.

“What?” he queried in mock innocence. “I didn’t name any names, did I? It was just an example.”

Pepper let out an exasperated sigh, muttering, “Sometimes, you can be the most exasperating-”

“Besides, what’s wrong with dating the class bad boy? After all, you’re doing the same thing, doll.”

Cap and Hawk took immediate action. They both edged further away from Tony’s end of the conference table, regarding Pepper as if she might be a live grenade on the verge of detonation. He couldn’t entirely blame them for it; his lady was well and truly riled up. Just not for the reasons they thought.

“Don’t think you’ll wiggle your way out of a lecture by changing the subject,” she warned.

“Fine, then let’s not change the subject.” Tony tipped a look back to Loki. “So what’s Asgard’s stance on long-term relationships with Time Lords?”

The raven-haired god leaned back in his chair and regarded Tony with an air of bemusement. A sign that he’d recovered from his melancholy mood of late, and a decent indication of what his answer might be. Nonetheless, he waited with some anticipation for the Trickster to make his reply.

“Well,” Loki began. “It hasn’t come up yet, but you know what they say- there’s a first time for everything.”

_Sounds like he means to find out,_ Tony thought to himself. _Now we just have to hope that Lilith will be back in two weeks like she promised._

\----

Scowling, the man turned away and muttered something she couldn’t quite translate. Probably for the best. And then the doors closed behind him to leave the two of them alone. Karl turned to her and shook his head.

“I am truly sorry, Martha. This is not the most flattering example of my country or its people for you to be witnessing. Sperber is not likely to be the last to express such remarks. And as he said, others may say much worse.”

“I’ve heard it all before, just in a different language.”

He favored her with a quizzical look before asking, “I would have thought London a more tolerant place in the present- well, what _had_ been the present- day.”

“In the 21st century? Sure. But the attitudes of my country in 1913 weren’t all that different from what I’m seeing here.” After a moment’s consideration, she mused, “I almost think it had been better in 1599.”

“You-” Karl stopped short, and then began again. “You say that as though you were there, Martha.”

“I was. Met Shakespeare and everything.”

“I thought those Weeping Angels had only sent you back in time once- and that was to 1969.”

“They did. The other times I was…travelling, sort of.”

“ _Time_ travelling, to be more specific.”

“Yeah.”

Again with a look.

“You’ll have to forgive me for asking how that’s possible.”

Martha supposed now was as good a time as any to tell Karl about the Doctor. She braced herself against what she knew would be an uphill battle in getting him to believe her. Especially knowing that a few key details she was about to tell him would likely cause him to recall where he’d heard them before. Not easy to convince someone that a supposed fictional character on the telly was actually real.

The program’s origins began with Torchwood, and had been more recently acquired by U.N.I.T. Martha had been told that it was meant to disguise the Doctor’s true existence by presenting a fictionalized version of events to the world. As a special bonus, it allowed the government to write off _real_ events as ‘part of the program production’- basically, a cover up. Lately, Martha wondered just how much longer that subterfuge was going to work. How much longer could the Doctor hide in plain sight?

_Thoughts for another day. Better get on with this before Sperber or someone else comes in here._

“My friend- I wanted to call him for help against the Weeping Angels.”

“A doctor friend of yours. Yes. I don’t recall whether you said his name.”

“I would if I knew it. But I’ve only ever known him as the Doctor.”

No lightbulb of recognition. Meaning he hadn’t even seen the program. Martha wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse, as it meant she had that much more to explain.

“Odd name,” Karl replied.

“He’s an odd…person.”

“And he travels through time.”

“He does quite a bit more than that. He sort of-” she thought for a minute of a way to describe it- “keeps the universe on a proper course. Like with these Weeping Angels. I’ll bet he was already in Salzburg to investigate what was going on.”

“Is he with the EU- part a special task force or something?”

Martha couldn’t suppress an impolite snort at the idea of the Doctor working for a governmental body of any kind. He _hated_ all of that, and didn’t much care for working with U.N.I.T. when their paths crossed. From what little she knew about him, he didn’t even get on with anyone with a position of authority on Gallifrey. When it still existed, anyway. The perpetual rebel.

_Let’s just drop the metaphorical bombshell and be done with it._

“Not really. He’s…well, an alien. And not like from another country or something. An _alien_ alien. From outer space.” Karl regarded her in absolute silence, which prompted her to quickly push forward. “And I know. I know that sounds crazy. Time travelling alien from another planet. But it’s true, I tell you.”

_Now we wait and see if he decides to call Sperber back to have me committed to an asylum as a complete nutter._

“You’re right, Martha, it _does_ sound crazy. But I saw statues that moved of their own accord, and now I’m standing in-” he glanced down at the file in his hands and read the date- “1918. I think I’m prepared to take you at your word.”

“Glad to hear it,” she returned with a smile. “And for our sakes, I hope the Doctor _is_ poking around in Salzburg. Right now, he’s our only chance of getting back to our own time.”

Karl might have replied, but he was interrupted by a tremulous whisper from behind them, “Dr. Steinbauer?”

They both turned around to see one of the children had managed to get out of bed and had approached their corner of the room. The girl with the cast. She hugged a stuffed cat to her chest, thin and pale with shadowed crescents under her eyes. She stared up at them as if not quite sure she trusted what she saw.

“Yes, Erika?”

“Are you here to take us home?”

Karl shot Martha a glance, at a loss for what to tell the child. Under the current circumstances, they could all be stuck in this time. But he didn’t want to frighten the girl by telling her that they had no hope. Finally, he settled on an answer that balanced reassurance against reality.

“Dr. Jones and I will certainly do our best. In the meantime, we’re here to take care of all of you.”

* * *

“Weeping Angels?” Donna queried. “I’ve not heard you mention them yet.”

“Martha and I fought them once- in London. Before your time.”

The Doctor had given the explanation, but hadn’t taken his eyes away from the window. Hadn’t looked away once since he’d spotted the statues on that old church. Donna craned her neck to get another peek at them. Weeping Angels- well, the statues did sort of look like they were crying with their faces cupped in their hands that way.

_Odd pose for a statue._

Donna would bet the Doctor was about to tell her that they weren’t statues. Probably aliens. And if they were behind the missing kids, they weren’t going to be the pleasant sort. She might as well find out just how unpleasant they were to deal with.

“And what are they about, then? Why are they taking children?”

“The children I don’t have an answer for just yet, but Weeping Angels consume energy- they feed off the life their victim might have lived by tossing them into the past.”

“They do _what_?”

“Short version- they kill you with time. Send you back far enough that in the present you’d be dead and consume the energy that makes up the difference.”

How perfectly horrible. Gave Donna the shivers to hear something that ghoulish. In short time she’d been travelling with the Doctor, they’d rarely run across an alien race that didn’t make its mission in life to destroy humans. Just once on the planet of the Ood. So far, they were the only peaceful aliens she’d met. Although, she supposed the Adiposians weren’t _all_ bad. Just a tad overzealous in their goal of replacing their breeding planet.

_Probably could’ve worked out a compromise if they’d been up front about what they wanted from the beginning- it was a marvelous way to lose weight, after all._

Before she got too distracted thinking about all that, she prompted him, “So don’t we need to come up with a plan?”

“I’m thinking,” he told her. “Working on it.”

“While staring out a window?”

“I can’t look away.”

She _really_ didn’t like the tone in his voice when he said that. Although she didn’t want to Donna forced herself to ask, “Why not”

“Because as long as someone is looking at them, they can’t move.”

“And the second everyone looks away?”

“We’re as good as dead.”

“Oh well that’s just great. What ever happened to your ‘we can get out of anything’ spirit?”

He didn’t answer her intentionally snarky retort, meaning the situation was as serious as he was making it out to be. Donna fixed her eyes on the statues, compelled to help in whatever way she could. She’d completely forgotten they weren’t alone. At least until Reiter spoke up.

“Would someone care to explain what is going on?” When no one answered her, she added, “Are you three even with the BASG?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’? Then who are you and what are you doing in my hospital?”

The Doctor sighed in impatience and gestured over his left shoulder to Lilith and said, “Little busy at the moment- would you mind giving the spiel?”

“You say that like I’d even know what it is.”

“Be creative.”

Ominous mutters. Donna suspected the Doctor would get an earful about that later, once this was all over. But for now, Lilith set herself to the task of sketching a rough picture of the situation for Reiter.

“That’s the Doctor- and yes, it’s just ‘the Doctor’. If it helps to keep calling him ‘Mr. Smith’, go ahead, but that’s not really his name. But he’s what you might call an expert on the subject of aliens. Which is good news for you, since he’s the best help you’re going to get when it comes to sorting out your missing children problem.”

“Aliens such as…foreign nationals?”

“Um, no. More like extra-terrestrial.”

A long pause followed. In it, she imagined Reiter was imagining a list of adjectives she wanted to give in response. Donna gave her credit for holding them back. Not many people kept their wits when first confronted about the topic of little green men from outer space.

“And if I heard correctly, those statues aren’t really-”

“Statues? No. They just appear to be.”

Reiter drew in a long breath and then let it out again before saying, “Well, since the administration has done nothing for us so far, I’ll take my chances with the three of you. At least it sounds as though you actually _want_ to help.” She returned to the window to stare across the street. “So what do we do, Doctor?”

He still didn’t have a plan. Donna could see it in the set of his chin and in the way his eyes squinted in furious concentration. But he would play it off as though he did until he came up with something.

“We have to trap them- get them cornered where we control the field and not them.”

“Any ideas how?”

“One, but I don’t like it.” The Doctor sighed. “We’ll have to lure them over here.”

“And then what,” Lilith queried skeptically. “We’d only be stuck in the same staring contest- just at closer range.”

“Well, do _you_ have a better idea, then,” he shot back in annoyance. “Because if you do, I’d love to hear it.”

Donna was beginning to regret having asked Lilith to join them. She honestly thought that they could overcome their personal quarrel with one another if they had something else to focus on. But they’d just brought it with them, squaring off against one another over everything. And so it’d be up to her to get them back on track.

“How did you and Martha defeat them last time,” she interjected before Lilith said another word.

“Dumb luck. They all closed in around the TARDIS and when it got sent back to us in 1969, the Angels were left staring at one another. Put them in permanent Quantum-lock.”

“So can’t we do that again?”

“It’s too dangerous. I don’t want them getting their hands on my TARDIS, or-”

When the Doctor’s words stuck in his throat, Donna realized that she’d yet to hear him call Lilith by name. Not once all evening. Hadn’t called her ‘Storyteller’ more than a few times, either. Even then, it had been a struggle for him. Made her wonder if whatever had happened between them had been the origin of his ‘rule’ about his own name.

“Or mine,” Lilith supplied on her own. “No, if any of them managed to get inside, we’d be in serious trouble. I’m in agreement with the Doctor on this one.”

Reiter had been trying to follow their conversation, but she was clearly lost when it came to the debate about the TARDIS. Or even what a TARDIS was. Donna felt some sympathy for the woman, but there just wasn’t time to get her caught up. She’d have to remain in the dark for a while longer.

“I suppose that means we’re stuck with your plan, then.”

“I said I didn’t like it. But it’s all I’ve got. Dr. Reiter- how well do you and your staff know the layout of the building?”

“I- uh,” the woman stuttered, taken aback at his question. “We’re here every day, Doctor. We know our way around.”

“Nah, that’s not quite good enough. We need to be able to outsmart them. Is there anyone who might know all the short cuts and back ways to navigate a place like this?”

She thought for a moment.

“I suppose some of the nurses might be more familiar- they have to cover a lot of ground when they’re working a shift, so they might know the sort of ‘short cuts’ you mentioned.”

“What about your receptionist,” Lilith asked. “Would he have access to security cameras? We could communicate with him with our phones.”

“We don’t have a full security system up in all the wings; it’s on the hospital’s list of upgrades. But Rausch could lend a hand, I think, if we get to some of the newer sections of the building.”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor exclaimed. “I think we might be coming up with some kind of a plan. First, we’ll need to get everybody in position. Anyone got a way of contacting the lot we left behind?”

Reiter pulled out her mobile and set about dialing even before he’d finished his sentence. As it rang, she queried, “What should I tell them?”

“Find out where we can position them to run a sort of relay race. The four of us here will each have to draw one of the Weeping Angels away from the others, and then double back on our own paths to cross with one of the others. Get them to take themselves out.”

“And then?”

He smiled wryly.

“And then we hope we’re fast enough- and clever enough- that they don’t take us out instead.”


	9. A Matter of Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Donna, Reiter and the Reader have come up with a plan for how to defeat the Weeping Angels, and are ready to get started. The first phase of the plan sends the Doctor and Reiter out of the room- leaving Donna and Lilith behind. And that's when news of the Avengers' discovery that she's a Time Lord reaches the latter. The Doctor will be back just in time to overhear Lilith planning to do something he definitely doesn't agree with. Their heated argument is cut short, though, as Donna encounters the Weeping Angels and is in need of the Doctor's help. With him rushing off to her rescue, Lilith will slip away. She's determined to travel back to Halloween and prevent the discovery of her TARDIS in the Tower. 
> 
> Martha and Karl, meanwhile, are doing a bit of information gathering with the children who have all been sent back to 1918. They'll talk with Erika and Ira, who will provide an clue as to where- or rather, when- the other children had come from. The two clearly have quite the puzzle on their hands to solve as they hope that the Doctor will be able to locate them.

The Doctor and Donna continued to discuss strategy with Reiter, who relayed instructions to the rest of the staff via her cell phone. I kept myself to the far side of the room, staring at the picture on the bedside table while trying not to feel awkward and useless. Aside from the suggestion about using the security cameras, I really didn’t have any contributions to make. If anything, I was just in their way.

_I’m just a storyteller. The silent observer- a cataloguer of the stories of others. I’m not meant to be a principle actor. Certainly not in a story like this one._

One of many glaring reasons why I should have ignored Donna’s goading comments rather than to have agreed to tag along. But I hadn’t listened to my instincts and look where it got me. Playing the role of the third wheel. Hell, even Reiter was of more use to the Doctor than I was at the moment.

“Kessel,” the physician said. “You and Bechtel take position down by x-ray. Wechter and Hirsch will be coming up from the stairwell at the end of the hall.”

She paused while the person on the other end of the line asked a question. Or, rather, _several_ questions, given how long the silence stretched on this end. As she listened, Reiter paced the length of the room. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Donna remained at the window, keeping a watchful eye on the Weeping Angels.

_Weeping Angels…Earth is a_ long _way from where your kind was last seen. Half a universe away, in fact._ I kept my eyes on the photograph and asked myself, _So how did you manage to find yourselves_ here _?_

Not just here, but here for some time, based on the account the Doctor had given. He and Martha had defeated four already; I hadn’t thought to ask where, but had a bad feeling that it wasn’t in Salzburg. And so now we were up against another set. Begged the question of how many _more_ were hiding in plain sight. Especially in cities like this one, where statues were commonplace.

Kessel must have finished, because Reiter picked up again.

“That’s right. Head towards recovery five and then split off. Bechtel should loop back around the east side of the wing while you circle west. Meet back at x-ray and duck off to the maintenance rooms on either side the minute you round the corner.”

The physician finished with her instructions and hung up. From his vigil at the window, the Doctor asked over his shoulder, “All set?”

“Everyone is in place. A little confused about how any of this will defeat those things, but they’re willing to try anything if it means people stop disappearing around here.”

“Good. And our man with the eye in the sky- is he ready?”

“On standby to give updates as soon as we lure them into the newer section of the building. We’ve worked it out so any announcements won’t give away what we’re up to. He’ll use nicknames for the various wings and rooms- the nurses and junior attendants use them all the time.” She smiled with a wry sort of humor. “I always found it highly unprofessional and tried to break them of the practice. Who would have thought one day I’d be _glad_ that they ignored me?”

“You can be sure we’re glad, too,” Donna replied before turning back to the Doctor. “So I guess all that’s left is to just…”

“Look away.”

After waiting several minutes for him to do so, Donna grew impatient enough to prod him, “Doctor?”

“Sorry. Not as easy as it sounds. But yes, looking away… _now_.” He stepped back from the window and broke eye contact with the Angels to look at the three of us. “All right. Reiter and I will head out first while the two of you hang back. Five minutes and I’ll be back around to tag you in for the next round of the relay race. Got it?”

“Got it,” Donna and I echoed.

Reiter nodded once, slipped her phone back in the pocket of her lab coat and made for the hallway. The Doctor followed close behind, but cast a look to me as he reached the door. I got the sense that he wanted to say something, but then shifted his gaze to Donna.

“Remember- if they manage to trap you…don’t blink. Not even for a second. And if they _do_ get you-”

“I’ve got my mobile,” she finished for him. “I expect you to answer it, spaceman, and fetch me from whenever they send me- you hear?”

“That’s my girl.”

His eyes fell on me again. We both knew if the Angels happened to send me back, there would be no call to tell him when to find me. I’d be resigned to living out the days between then and now the long way. However long that might be. Trapped in time without a TARDIS; a Time Lord’s worst nightmare. Again, he looked as though he might say something, but then he took the last step out into the hall and dashed off.

Donna shot me a curious look. Whatever the Doctor couldn’t say, I had a feeling she was about to make up for it with a slew of questions I had no interest in answering. My options for avoiding them weren’t great, either. And it was more like option rather than options. I could pretend like I was checking my phone. Hadn’t wanted to call attention to the fact that I had one.

_Lesser of two evils right now._

Trying to look casual about it, I retrieved my phone from my hip pocket while avoiding eye contact with her. Of course, if this ruse was going to be of any use, I was going to have to turn the thing back on. Hadn’t touched it since hanging up with Pepper.

_Hard to believe that was only a few hours ago._ As I stared at its black screen, misgivings kept me from waking the phone from its hibernation. But on the other hand, I knew I probably ought to. If I needed to communicate with anyone, it’d help if I wasn’t waiting for the OS to load first. _Of course, that only helps if I have a number to call. The only ones programmed into my phone are…_

Better not to call any of _those_.

Maybe it was better just to leave well enough alone. I was about to put it away again when Donna came over. She gave me a smile as she nodded at the phone in my hand, “Reiter gave me her number earlier, but I didn’t get yours yet. I don’t think any of us realized you had a mobile with you.”

“Oh, I-”

“I’m sure if the Doctor had thought to ask, he would’ve used his sonic screwdriver to fix it so you could call him from anywhere. And I do mean _anywhere_.”

She needn’t have told me; I was very familiar with the sort of modification that he might have done. Time Lords had discovered the means of communicating across space and time before the first civilizations emerged on this planet. My only surprise was to see the Doctor applying it to human technology. If Gallifrey still existed, he would be charged with ‘breaking the rules’.

_As if that stopped him before._

“He had more pressing things on his mind,” I replied in hopes of steering her away from the subject.

Would that it had worked.

“Oh well. At least we can exchange numbers until we run into him again.”

Donna really was a force of nature when she put her mind to something. She was going to press this until I gave in, no question. I might as well save time and just acquiesce. When this was over, I could just block her number. Or, failing that, change mine. At least I _hoped_ I could…no telling what other modifications the Doctor might have made to that phone of hers.

“Yeah, sure.”

Reluctantly, I pressed and held the home button. The screen brightened and came to life a few seconds later. Didn’t even make it through unlocking it before a flood of messages came through. I cringed. Should have guessed that Pepper would’ve been alarmed that she couldn’t get in touch with me. She’d tried to call back almost immediately. No voicemail, though. Wasn’t sure if that was a good sign, or a bad one.

I scrolled through the other notifications. All of them text messages, thankfully, and not calls. A few from Nat; several more from Stark. I mentally kicked myself for being disappointed that I didn’t see any from Loki.

_Probably ought to have a quick look at these just to make sure it’s not an emergency._

Granted, I doubted any kind of message that they would be sending- emergency or not- would be more urgent than dealing with Weeping Angels. But I pulled them up, anyway, starting with the ones from Nat. A photo with some sort of caption- looked like she’d found it on Instagram- followed by some question about the team’s Twitter account. Definitely not anything that required my immediate attention, so I moved on to see what Stark wanted.

**{Stark 12/17/2018 10:18:03 AM}:** I know you said you’d be back in two weeks, but you might want to reconsider.

Interesting. Wasn’t sure why he was so keen to get me to return to the Tower. Or why he thought he could convince me to change my mind. With a bemused shake of my head, I continued reading his next message to find out.

**{Stark 12/17/2018 10:18:15 AM}:** Or even if you can’t get out of your plans, at least consider doubling back when you’re done.

**{Stark 12/17/2018 10:18:46 AM}:** Shouldn’t be too hard for a Time Lord.

Those final words burned into my retinas and sent my heart racing in panic. Stark was far too confident for them to be a guess...or some bizarre reference to my costume from the ill-fated Halloween party. Meaning somehow, he’d discovered what I was. A suspicion gnawed at me, and so I scrolled back to the photo that Nat sent. My TARDIS. Parked in my office at the Tower. I must have been careless and hadn’t locked the door behind me, leaving some guest at the party with the opportunity to discover it.

_And from the looks of this, that photo has been plastered all over the Internet. It’s a wonder it’s taken this long to get back to me._

Not just me. To the whole team. I was certain that between Nat and Stark they’d likely told everyone by now. That would make things quite awkward at the Tower, especially between me and Loki. No doubt he was recalling some of the things I’d said on the terrace, and was realizing that I hadn’t been jesting with him. I didn’t want to think of what _else_ he might start re-examining. If things were uncomfortable between us now, this would only make it ten times worse.

_Not if I go back and stop this secret from getting out in the first place._

* * *

The little girl smiled tentatively at Karl’s promise, hugging the stuffed cat close to her chest. He returned her smile and laid a hand against her shoulder blade as he guided her gently back to her cot.

“You shouldn’t be up and about, Erika. That leg is still mending.” Karl helped her climb back into it before drawing the thin, course blanket to her chin. He patted her head. “Better, yes?”

The girl nodded. 

A bare, wooden chair stood against the wall. Karl pulled it up next to the bed and sat down. Martha remained standing, but came close enough to peer over his left shoulder. In her peripheral vision, she noticed that the boy who had recognized Karl when they walked in occupied the cot next to hers. Although he hadn’t tried to call out again, he had turned his head enough to watch them. Listening as Karl continued his conversation with the little girl.

“Now Erika, Dr. Jones and I would like to talk to you about the night you disappeared from the hospital. Are you feeling well enough to discuss it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good. Tell me, Erika- what do you remember?”

She took a shallow breath and began.

“I woke up in the middle of th’night from a bad dream and got out of bed for a bit.” A pause and a furtive look to Karl, as if she expected him to scold her. When he didn’t, she continued on. “I liked looking at the church across the street. The one with all the statues.”

_Which is what drew their attention to you, I bet._

“What happened next?”

“An’ then I tried to go back to sleep. I got back into bed and closed my eyes…but then I felt funny. Like I was falling. It felt like another bad dream, so I woke up again.”

When she paused this time, Erika bit her thumbnail and fidgeted under the blanket. Her eyes darted to the doors leading out of the ward. Probably worried that Dr. Sperber might come back. Or that they wouldn’t believe what she had to say, either. Karl waited out her reticence, not pressuring her. Several minutes went by before she got up enough courage to go on.

“I wasn’t in bed anymore. I wasn’t even _inside_. An’ it was daytime instead of the middle of th’night. When I tried to ask someone for help, they brought me here.”

“Did anyone ask you where you came from?”

She nodded.

“I tried to explain about the auto accident, but they wouldn’t believe me. The nurses and doctors said I was confused. Then they started asking me questions about what reg-re-regiment my daddy served in.” Erika scrunched up her face. “What’s that word mean, anyway?”

“It means they think he is in the military,” Karl told her.

“Oh. How come?”

Rather than answer that question, he skirted around it to ask one of his own. “Did any of the people mention what year it is?”

“Sort of. After I told Dr. Sperber my birthday, he gave me a funny look and asked if I meant to say _19_ 10 instead of 2010. Did the same with Pieter.” The girl’s eyes shifted to a few of the beds across the room and whispered, “But what made him _really_ mad was when Kurt told him _his_ birthday.”

“And what year was that?”

“1936.”

Oh yes, Martha could understand why that would have caused a reaction. Sperber could pretend he’d misheard a date that was a century off…but to hear a child rattle off a date only a few decades away- _that_ could not be so easily dismissed or explained away. For Martha, they just added to a much larger puzzle.

_Kurt came here from the early 1940’s- at most, 1945. But Karl said the Weeping Angels weren’t installed at St. Johann’s until very recently in our own time. So where had they been before that? How long have they been hunting in this city?_

Without talking to the boy to find out his story, she wasn’t likely to get those answers. Unfortunately, Kurt appeared to be heavily sedated, and so they wouldn’t be talking to him for quite a while. Likely not until tomorrow. In the meantime, she and Karl left Erika to rest as they made a circuit of the room. He stopped at the beds whenever the child was alert enough to hold a conversation, starting with those who had been patients of his.

Martha stuck close as his second shadow- mostly to give the appearance of being the Karl’s assistant should anyone walk in unexpectedly. While he talked, she stood nearby and listened. Wasn’t until they got to the first kid who hadn’t come from their own time that she had reason to say anything. They boy, whose name was Ira, was one of the oldest in the whole ward- Martha’s guess put him at nearly eleven. He regarded Karl with wary suspicion and remained tight-lipped when asked any questions about where- or _when_ \- he came from.

Finally, Martha decided to have a go at it, and sat on the edge of the boy’s bed. She smiled sympathetically.

“Look, I get it that you don’t know if you can trust us. I’m sure you’ve heard other people say that you can and it turned out they were lying to you. But if you really want help getting back home, you’re going to have to believe that we don’t want to hurt you, okay?”

The look he gave her made Martha wonder how badly she’d butchered what she intended to say. That speech stretched her German skills to their limits and then some. Just when she thought she’d have to turn to Karl for help getting her point across, the boy replied in a thoughtful tone, “You’re English.”

Oh. Well, she supposed that her accent was bound to give her away if nothing else. Probably did come as a surprise to run across someone from her country in this time. And that’d be something she should keep in mind in general before talking to people. Maybe it was for the best that most of the doctors and nurses would prefer to deal with Karl rather than speak directly to her. But as she’d already opened that door in front of the kids, Martha saw no point in denying it now.

“Yes. I came from London.”

“In the 2000’s. Like Erika and the others.”

“That I did.”

“Do they…” The boy hesitated before asking, “Do they speak German in England in that time? Does _everyone_ speak German in that time?”

Well, that gave her an idea when Ira likely disappeared. Likely sometime in the midst of WWII, when Germany set its mind on conquering all of Europe. For a time, it certainly seemed as though the Allies wouldn’t be able to stop that expansion, so Martha couldn’t blame the boy for asking. And given how concerned he was about her answer…

“People learn it if they want to, but no one _has_ to,” Martha assured him. “We still speak English. Just like people in France speak French.”

Relief there. Ira closed his eyes briefly and whispered, “Thank you.”

Hoping that she’d managed to earn a bit of trust from the boy, she decided to revisit Karl’s line of questioning. But rather than take a sideways approach, Martha came at it directly. More a statement than question when she said, “You came here from the late 1930’s or early 1940’s, didn’t you?”

Ira stared at his folded hands for quite some time before he relented enough to answer her.

“1940. I saw how Dr. Sperber reacted to Kurt and so I pretended that I couldn’t remember my birthday when he asked me. And I…” he swallowed hard, took a breath and let it out again. Martha saw the fear lurking in his eyes as he added, “I gave him a false name. My last name isn’t Mueller. It’s Epstein.”

As she suspected. Jewish. Likely terrified of what someone like Dr. Sperber might do if he discovered that fact. Even though the worst of the rhetoric wouldn’t begin for a few more years, she couldn’t blame the boy for inventing a new identity if he found himself stuck reliving that nightmare a second time. She could see that the boy still wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t doomed himself by telling them.

“Don’t worry, Ira,” Karl said. “We won’t tell anyone. And Martha and I will do our best to get you back home.”

Hesitation.

“I don’t want to go back,” the boy admitted fearfully. “Things were so bad that we were planning to get passage out of Austria. But then I got sick. Mother was worried I wouldn’t make the trip and so they delayed until I got b-better.”

The last of those words ended with a wobble and Ira said nothing more. Martha didn’t want to ask what happened next. Didn’t _need_ to ask. The Epstein family had likely met the fate of so many others who hadn’t been able to escape before it was too late. And so she sat there, at a loss what to do for the child.

“Could you take me back with you- to _your_ time?”

If the Doctor did manage to find them, she wasn’t sure what his answer might be. Time Lords had their own funny rules when it came to time and the people living in it. He could bounce around and live wherever and whenever he chose, but according to him, yanking a human out of his or her proper place could upset the whole balance of the universe. She couldn’t afford to promise Ira that she’d bring him to 2018 and then have the Doctor undo that promise.

_But I can at least say I’ll try._

“I have a friend. He’s got a way to get everyone where they belong. He’s likely trying to find a way to get to us right now, and when he does, we’ll see what he can do, okay?”

* * *

The Doctor left Reiter to take the chase in one direction as he circled round another way. The Angels took the bait; two of them veered off in pursuit of her. He wished the woman luck- her and the rest of her staff. Meanwhile, he returned to their original starting place to send Donna and Lilith to draw out the remaining two Angels.

He skidded to a stop outside the door to Erika’s room in time to hear the latter say, “I have to, Donna. Something like this could endanger _everyone_ if I don’t go back to fix it. Not just me, but the Doctor, too.”

“But you heard what he said. Won’t going back, like, rip open a hole in the universe or something?”

“Not if I’m careful.”

He hesitated out of sight just a little longer, eavesdropping on their conversation with a growing sense of dread. From the sound of it, she intended to swan off and leave them all here. Just as he suspected she would from the beginning. Worse yet, Lilith was talking about fixing something that already happened. And judging by Donna’s question, he surmised that this event was part of her personal timeline.

“I’m calling him.”

“Don’t. Donna, seriously, don’t. He’ll just want to argue about it and there’s really no time for it. Besides, I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”

“And what about what happens to all of _us_ in those ‘few minutes’?”

That question was met with silence. The Doctor imagined that Lilith likely wore a guilty expression as the other woman fixed her with one of those stares of hers. The ones that he swore could burn holes through bone. He’d lost count of the times he’d found it easier to just do whatever she wanted rather than to endure that stare. Which was why he was caught off-guard when it failed to deter Lilith. Or perhaps it was just her choice of counter-argument.

“You can all do this without me- would’ve been just fine on your own from the beginning.” After a half-second, she added ruefully, “The Doctor hasn’t needed me for anything in a very long time.”

The Doctor drew in a sharp, painful breath and held it. Closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall while he tried to regain his balance. No easy task. Those words dredged up memories that he tried to keep buried. Despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, they rose like a tide and replayed themselves on the insides of his eyelids.

<<<< Long Ago on Gallifrey >>>>

_“You tell me, Lilith- why shouldn’t I believe it? I_ heard _what you said to him. Even if I hadn’t, did you think it wouldn’t get back to me?”_

_“No, of course not.” He regarded her with a chilly, hostile stare, causing Lilith to rake a hand through her hair in frustration. And then she shrugged helplessly at him. “Okay, I know what it sounded like, but-”_

_“There’s no ‘but’ that will justify any of this._ Him _I guess I should have expected it from.” The Doctor narrowed his eyes accusingly. “But_ you _.”_

_Lilith tried to approach him, but he sidestepped away from her before she could reach him. Refused to see the hurt in her expression at the deliberate move to distance himself from her. When he put up a solid, invisible wall between them that had never been there before._

_She tried again, beseeching him, “If you’d only-”_

_“I never thought_ you’d _betray me.”_

_Lilith shook her head vehemently._

_“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. M-”_

_“Don’t,” he cut her off coldly before she could finish. “Don’t you_ dare _say it.”_

_“But-”_

_“In fact, I don’t_ ever _want to hear you say it. Ever again. You or anyone else for that matter.”_

_Shock and disbelief etched lines in her forehead and left her jaw hanging slightly open. And then she shook her head once more- slowly this time- as she murmured, “You can’t mean that.”_

_He laughed bitterly._

_“Oh but I do. And don’t pretend like it matters. Clearly you aren’t as interested in travelling with me as you said you were. Go on, then. Go and travel with_ him _, if you think that’s what you want.” His gaze met hers, impassive and mocking, as he declared, “I don’t need_ you _.”_

<<<< Return to Present >>>>

The memory cut into him mercilessly and several minutes passed before the Doctor was steady enough to leave the safety of the hall to join the two women. Minutes he knew they didn’t have if they were going to defeat the Weeping Angels, which was the only reason he was able to walk through that door at all. Both of them turned in his direction and Donna stopped mid-sentence.

“Perfect timing,” she beamed as Lilith made a visible effort not to curse under her breath. “You’re just in time to weigh in.”

Pretending he hadn’t already heard their conversation, he queried, “Weigh in about what?”

“Lilith says she has to go back to New York. She was just going to leave us here.”

“I already told you that I’ll be right back. I just have to fix something real quick.”

She made that point to Donna rather than to him. The two of them were gearing up for another stalemate argument. If he was going to get to the bottom of this, he’d have to send the other woman out of the room first. The Doctor cast a meaningful look in her direction.

“Donna, I need you down at the end of the hall. Two of the Angels followed Reiter and me on the first round, but the others must be lurking around. We need to draw them out into the open.” She cut a glance to Lilith and then back to him in silent question. “We’ll be along. This should only be a minute.”

Fortunately, Donna didn’t argue, though she did point at him with her mobile as she reached the door and warned ominously, “I expect you to talk some _sense_ into her, spaceman.”

And then it was just the two of them. The Doctor waited long enough to be sure Donna was out of earshot before asking his first question; because time was a factor, he asked it bluntly.

“What are you trying to fix that could be more important than this?”

“The Avengers have discovered I’m a Time Lord,” she replied, equally blunt. “I need to undo that before it goes any further.”

“Undo,” he repeated. “You’re talking about doubling back over your own timeline.”

She didn’t deny it. His temper slipped the leash and left him in the form of a sharply worded rebuke. “It’s bad enough you exposed our existence to that lot, but now you want to risk the stability of this whole universe on the slim hope that you _might_ prevent it from happening.”

Nothing but a defiant, determined stare.

“Have you any idea how _irresponsible_ that is?” He crossed his arms. “I won’t let you do it.”

_Oh that was a mistake._ The Doctor knew he’d said the wrong thing the minute it left him. It didn’t take long to be proven right; Lilith’s response was instantaneous. Green ice filled her eyes and she drew herself up in a rigid posture of outrage.

“You’re hardly in a position to lecture me about responsibility,” she retorted with glacial hostility. “And you damn well don’t have any authority to tell me what I can or can’t do.”

She was right. On both counts. And while he hadn’t crossed his timeline to do it, he _had_ corrected a similar breach when he’d given Mickey that disc to wipe out all references about ‘the Doctor’ on the Internet. Even that hadn’t worked in the end, and now he was stuck letting U.N.I.T. create a fictionalized version of his life to cover up his existence.

_Well,_ somewhat _fictionalized, anyway._

The Doctor heaved a sigh and offered an apology that he _hoped_ Lilith would accept.

“All right, I admit that was uncalled for. I just.” He hesitated, unsure how to go on. After pacing a circuit of the room, he dared allow himself a rueful, sideways glance in her direction. “This is hard. Even harder than I thought it’d be.”

Her expression didn’t change at first, and he was sure his attempt to mend the animosity between them had failed. Might as well give up and get back to dealing with the Weeping Angels. Get back to a problem he knew he could solve. And then gradually the ice thawed. While he couldn’t say that Lilith had _forgiven_ him, she’d at least decided to hear him out.

_Which is more than you were willing to do for_ her _,_ his guilty conscience reminded him.

_I was young and stupid then. I wouldn’t make the same mistake now._

“I don’t have to come back,” Lilith said softly. “I can leave you and Donna to handle the Angels yourselves- the two of you will see it through all right. You know you will.”

If he said yes, she’d never seek him out again. He’d have to seek _her_ out. And that would mean paying a visit to the Avengers. Not something he was inclined to do under normal circumstances, but with the Asgardians in residence- Laufeyson in particular- he knew better than to get the TARDIS within ten miles of that blasted Tower. Couldn’t risk it. Not even for her.

_Meaning if you let her go now, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever see her again._

There wasn’t time now to say the things that needed to be said. Or even the time to decide if he had the courage to say them. But they _needed_ to be said. So his only hope of buying himself some time would be to keep her here- at least until the danger from the Angels had passed. After a moment of thought, the Doctor offered a counter suggestion that just might convince her to stay.

“If you intend to go back, what difference does it make to wait until we’re done here? Finish this with us and if we can’t think of a better plan afterwards, _then_ go back and fix things there.”

“I…”

“ _Doctor!_ ”

They both turned at hearing Donna’s shout echoing through the hall. From the pitch of her tone, it sounded as though the other two Angels had finally made an appearance. He was torn. On one hand, the Doctor knew he needed to get this settled with Lilith; on the other, he couldn’t leave Donna to fend for herself against those things. He cast Lilith an agonizing look, unable to make a decision. She was having none of it and gave him a shove in the direction of the door.

“Go you dumbass. Do what you do and save the universe.”

“But-”

“This is not the time to argue with me, boyo. Now _go_.”

Although not quite able to squelch his misgivings about walking away, the Doctor did as she bade him, racing out into the hall. He didn’t dare look back to see if Lilith had followed him.

* * *

I didn’t join in the pursuit, merely watching him tear out of the room in a race against time. Just as well to send him to look after Donna and the others; our time had already run out. If his focus remained on the Angels, I’d have the opportunity to deal with the Avengers. True, the Doctor had a point about not needing to correct my mistake back at the Tower immediately. An hour or two- even twenty-four- wasn’t going to make a difference.

_It’s not like they’re going to announce to the whole world what you are._

 _No, they won’t,_ I agreed reluctantly. _But that’s not exactly the danger that concerns me._

 _Then what_ does _concern you?_

I refused to answer. Instead, I peered carefully into the hall to make sure that neither Donna nor the Doctor were looking in my direction. Their attention was focused on the Weeping Angel blocking the stairwell, and so I edged cautiously along the wall to the opposite end of the corridor. Stealth was key if I didn’t want to draw the attention of the Angel. If it happened to catch sight of me, there’d be no escaping this place. Not until this was dealt with, anyway.

On silent steps, I stuck to the shadows that claimed most of the long hallway, one ear attuned to the heated debate going on between the Doctor and Donna. My luck seemed to be holding. And then it deserted me. I’d just about turned the corner- would have been home free- when my left foot stumbled over an abandoned IV stand. A jarring metallic rattle bounced down the corridor to betray what I was up to.

I flung myself out of sight.

Heart in my throat, I clutched the wall at my back for several seconds, straining to hear sounds of footsteps approaching over the blood pounding in my ears. Didn’t wait long enough to be certain either way before I ran headlong for the next available stairwell. Spotted one halfway down the row of patient rooms. The push bar gave way when I threw all my weight against it and I rushed into the dimly lit space. And then it was a dizzying spiral down- flight after flight- to the ground floor.

Upon reaching the bottom, I opted to take my chances with the emergency exit rather than risk heading deeper into the building again. I was in luck; no alarm had been wired onto it. I swung into the alleyway, panting slightly as I gained my bearings. When I did, I let out a mild curse. The stairwell had dropped me off on the _opposite_ side of the building from where I’d parked my TARDIS.

_Of course it did. Couldn’t have asked for anything to be convenient._

Ignoring the stitch in my side, I took off running again. The heels of my boots rang against the sidewalk, which was thankfully cleared of snow- or worse, ice. Now was _not_ the time to take a spill and break my leg. At the same time, I prayed that no watchful eyes from the stories above happened to glance out a window to mark my passing.

The block ended and I veered sharply to the right to cut down the other alley. My TARDIS waited just where I’d left it. Still running, I fumbled with the chain around my neck and grasped at the key. By the time I reached the TARDIS, I’d already homed in on the padlock and slid the key in with a forceful twist of my wrist. A second or two later, I was inside, bracing against the door and trying not to feel like my lungs were on fire.

I allowed myself the luxury of a minute before I made myself move. Legs were a bit shaky, but I made it to the main controls without taking a nosedive off the narrow footbridge. By the time I got there, I was already spinning dials and pulling levers to set a course for Halloween eve. Coordinates set, my hand rested on the mechanism that would send me back. And yet I hesitated.

_Is this_ truly _the path I ought to take?_ I chewed on my thumbnail, debating. _After all, it’s not like I can go back far enough to prevent what happened on the terrace, even if I do fix this other mess._

Or could I?

_Could I intercept that meeting and change the outcome altogether?_

I should my head, already knowing the answer.

“No, I can’t,” I told myself in resignation. “It’s a fixed point in the story; there’s no writing an alternate ending for it.”

_All the more reason to at least set my_ other _mistake back on the right course._

With that, I set the TARDIS on its way. It launched into the Time Vortex with an unusual jolt. Violent enough that I had to clutch at the console just to keep upright. I ran a quick check of all the systems, but found nothing unusual. Nothing that should have caused the rough take-off, anyway. Thankfully, we hit no other unexpected turbulence in the minutes before we set down again.

_Still, I think I need to check the calibrations in the old girl. That last trip just about tried to shake us apart._

After I’d dealt with my task at hand, I’d have a look at it. For the moment, I swung a screen over so that I could take a peek at where we’d touched down. Since the first ‘me’ of this night was going to park her TARDIS in my office, I’d had to find another spot to stash this one. A spot far enough away to prevent the universe from imploding, and yet close enough that I could still make it upstairs in time to lock the door before anyone stumbled inside.

_Not to mention safe enough that no one will stumble upon_ this _TARDIS while I’m gone._

From the look of it, the TARDIS had tucked itself at the end of the hallway sandwiched between Stark and Bruce’s labs. A safe enough spot; with the party going on upstairs, neither of them was likely to be down here at this hour. At the opposite end of the corridor, the elevator up to the penthouse floor beckoned. I checked my watch: five minutes to midnight. If I’d remembered correctly, that meant that I ought to have arrived only a few minutes ago and should already be on my way to find Loki. All I had to do was slip up there, lock the office door and then come back down again without crossing paths with anyone from the team.

“Best get on with it, then.”

Cautiously, I crept out into the hall and made straight for the elevator; it felt like an eternity waiting for the damned thing to arrive. The ride upstairs was even worse. I couldn’t stand still, despite having a mere two-floor ascent to wait, and paced a restless circuit around the enclosed space. Finally, the elevator pinged and I scrambled into the low-lit foyer of the penthouse.

_Empty. Good._

While other guests on Stark’s list weren’t likely to recognize me, I didn’t want to take any chances. My eyes roved every square foot of the hall as I headed for my office. Really thought that I was going to make it, too. Really did. I was perhaps a half-dozen steps away when my hopes were dashed as I heard a man from inside say, “Turn the light on, just to see.”

I was too late.

Whoever had discovered my TARDIS was already there. I stood in numb horror as the unfamiliar voices carried on their conversation. Listened as the man urged his date to take a photo. A photo that, if I’d heard correctly, was shared around the world. No doubt the same one that Nat would ultimately send to me.

I was still standing there when the couple switched off the light and strolled out into the hallway. Put me directly in their line of sight as the woman turned around. She gave me a fleeting smile that held no spark of recognition. I supposed that I ought to be grateful for that if nothing else. She gestured down the hall, towards the living room.

“We got a little turned around. You wouldn’t happen to know where the bathroom is, would you?”

A moment of silence as I forced out the words to answer her, saying, “Behind you- up two doors and on the right.”

“Thanks!”

She dashed off to leave me with her gentlemen friend. He’d been staring intently down at the phone in his hands, thumbs typing rapidly on the screen. When he’d finished, the man glanced up at me and offered an enthusiastic grin.

“Hey, you wanna see something awesome?”

Stuck, I pretended I didn’t already know what he wanted to show me- and that I was _anything_ but excited about the discovery. He took my silence as assent and waved me to where he stood as he pushed my office door open again. With leaden feet, I shuffled closer. Tried not to cringe as he flipped on the light to illuminate my TARDIS. The man, thankfully, didn’t notice my apathetic demeanor as he chattered on.

“Would you believe Stark was able to wrestle _this_ away from the BBC just for this party? It’s so weird, though. He goes through all that trouble and then stashes it in this side office where no one was likely to see it. Seems like such a waste to me.”

“Who knows with him,” I replied with an anemic shrug. “Stark can be an unpredictable sort.”

He didn’t dwell on it for long, switching topics to one I found even more alarming. “You want me to take a picture of you standing next to it?”

I most certainly did not, and sought to find some excuse to get out of it.

“Oh- no. I don’t even have a phone with me, I left it-”

“I’ve got one,” he offered with a smile. “It’d be no trouble to take one for you.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

My protest seemed to fall upon deaf ears. The man was already at the ready to snap a photo before I could move out of frame. But just as I thought he’d do it, he lowered the phone and looked over his shoulder.

“We ought to see if that woman dressed as River Song would come pose for us.” A slight head tilt as he looked at me. “You know, you sort of look like her.”

Fear lanced through me and I tried to think of anything to shift the subject. Couldn’t let him speculate on that too much or he might actually figure out that we were the same person. If he did, the photo he’d just posted to Instagram would be nothing compared to what he might post next. I’d about come up with some means of diverting him when his date returned from the bathroom.

“Hey, Sabina- tell me, doesn’t she look like the River Song woman we saw?”

“Henry…”

“Seriously. Just look.”

The woman shook her head and cast me a somewhat apologetic glance. “Sorry, you’ll have to forgive Henry. He’s a bit of a fanatic when it comes to anything related to Doctor Who and tends to let his imagination run away with him sometimes.”

“No worries,” I answered lightly, heart still half-lodged in my throat.

“Although… the woman studied me a moment too long. “Perhaps I _can_ see a bit of a resemblance. The eyes and the nose.”

_I have to get out of here._

“It’d be a flattering thought, but I’d be surprised to learn I had a doppelganger.” Looking for an excuse to escape the couple, I gestured in the direction of the bathroom. “If you’ll, um, excuse me, I was actually coming through here to make use of the ladies room myself.”

They allowed me to pass by without pressing the issue, bidding me a cheerful goodbye as they headed back to the party. I slipped into the restroom, shut the door and locked it firmly to keep out unexpected company while I decided what to do next. My reflection stared at me in the mirrors on the opposite side of the room, pale and strained.

“That was entirely too close for comfort.”

I didn’t want to admit it aloud, but quite possibly close enough that instead of _fixing_ this mess, I’d actually managed to make it _worse_.


	10. Standoffs and Bombshells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and the Doctor are dealing with the Weeping Angels terrorizing Salzburg with the help of Reiter and her staff, but the fourth Angel's whereabouts are unknown. Throws a wrench in the plans for incapacitating them, especially with Lilith gone. She'll be back, though, when her attempt to change her personal timeline fails. Explaining that to the Doctor will not go well at all.
> 
> While they're puzzling that out, it's back to New York to check in with the Avengers. Just as Stark suspected, Loki's prepared to make things work where Lilith's concerned...although he does admit there may be some serious obstacles in his path. But he doesn't get too far in planning his strategy before Director Fury hijacks their meeting to discuss a high profile S.H.I.E.L.D. operation. He'll send Stark and a few others to Lenox Hill Hospital. You might have guessed it- more missing children. And if that weren't bad enough, the most recent patient to have gone missing turns out to be someone they all know....

“Don’t move!” the Doctor yelled as he sprinted towards her. “Donna, don’t let it touch you!”

Without taking her eyes off the Angel pinning her to the wall, she shouted back in exasperation, “Now why on earth would I move!?”

He skidded to a stop a few feet away; Donna noted that Lilith wasn’t with him. Meaning the Doctor hadn’t likely been all that successful in changing her mind about the whole crossing timelines business. And although she was disappointed- more so with Lilith than with him- Donna figured this wasn’t the best time to let herself be distracted. Not if she hoped to make it out of this mess.

“All right, spaceman. Got any bright ideas?”

“Working on it.”

A common refrain today. She wished just _once_ he’d say that he had it all sorted out. Then again, their adventures always seemed to follow this sort of pattern. The ‘we’ll make it up as we go’ approach. Hadn’t bothered her before, so why did she feel uneasy _this_ time around? Donna pushed that question aside, not sure she wanted to know the answer. Instead, she resorted to a tactic that had served her well in other tight situations.

“I’d appreciate it if you worked a little faster. This dodgy thing is really giving me the creeps.”

“It’s a bit tricky when it’s just the one. Kind of puts our plan askew without the other.” The Doctor paused. “Tell me that you only ran across the one.”

“If the other was lurking about, I never saw it.”

Not the most comforting of realizations to have just now, because that meant one Angel was still unaccounted for. And given the lack of updates from Reiter, Donna worried the first two might have slipped the trap laid out for them. For all she and the Doctor knew, they might turn up any minute. A thought she could tell had crossed his mind, too. Looked to be on the verge of mentioning it when a horrendous clatter rang down from the other end of the corridor.

_Don’t turn to look. Don’t turn to look._

“What was that,” she asked while keeping her eyes on the Angel.

The Doctor hesitated before answering, “My guess is not any of the Angels, so nothing to worry about.” _Now why don’t I believe you, spaceman?_ Before she could call him out on it, though, he posed a question of his own. “Can you shimmy down to the floor and slip out from under its arms? So long as I’m watching, it can’t move.”

“I suppose I could give it a try.”

Easier said than done, and Donna fervently wished that she’d worked harder at slimming down like she said she would. Losing a few kilos would have made this much easier. But since she _didn’t_ , she sucked in her tummy and slowly edged her way to the floor. Didn’t get very far before she stopped short, barely in time to prevent her knees from bumping into the frozen Angel.

_Guess there’s no ladylike way of doing this,_ Donna griped as she wiggled her feet apart so they were on either side of the thing. Looking for all the world like a jockey riding an invisible horse. _He better not laugh._ That done, she continued to slide down, using the wall at her back for support while her feet stretched out in front of her. When she landed on the floor, she breathed a sigh of relief and took a bit of a rest. _Made it._

Well, not quite. She still had to get herself clear of the damned thing.

Nothing dignified about the way she rocked sideways on one hip and twisted at a right angle to the wall. With one arm stretched out on the floor, she pulled her other leg free from the Angel a few centimeters at a time. The ordeal probably only took a matter of minutes, but Donna felt as though she’d just gone for a five kilometer run for how hard her heart was pounding. She stood up rather shakily and stood next to the Doctor, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the Angel.

“All right, then. That’s done. Now, what do we do with it?”

“We need to find out where the others are- especially the last one. I don’t want to let this one loose again until we can locate them all and get back to the plan.”

“So have Lilith take a peek out of the window and see if it’s still at the church,” Donna suggested. When he didn’t immediately agree, she sighed. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“And do you expect her to come back?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

The words said one thing; his forlorn tone said another. He _knew_ Lilith wouldn’t be back. She wanted to pry. Was dying to find out just what all went on between the two of them. But this was not the time for it. Not with these beastly aliens going around zapping people into the past. Solve that first, _then_ she’d interrogate the Doctor.

_If we live through this, anyway._

Donna’s mobile rang, its merry jingle obnoxiously loud in the silent hallway. She jolted a bit before scrambling to answer before the caller hung up. Once she’d got it free of her jacket pocket, she glanced at the display. Reiter. Pressing the button, Donna prayed for good news.

“Dr. Reiter?”

“Donna?” The physician sounded a little winded.

“Yeah, it’s me. Is everything okay?”

“We’re good. The Doctor’s plan worked…we think.”

Not quite the assurance she as hoping for. Donna would have preferred an unequivocal ‘yes’ to an ‘I think’. Still, it was better than ‘we’re doomed’, so she’d take what she could get. She swapped the mobile to her other ear so she could keep a clear line of sight to the Doctor.

“You think?”

“We managed to get them face to face like he said…but no one wants to risk testing whether they can move if no one is looking.”

Well, that made sense. Volunteering to be _that_ guinea pig could very well earn someone a trip to the Dark Ages. And unlike her, none of them had a mobile capable of calling for rescue, making it a one-way trip. Donna could hear Reiter’s unasked question about what to do next. She cast a look to the Doctor and relayed the update to him in hopes he would have an answer.

“They’ve got the first two pinned in a staring match like you wanted. Reiter’s asking for guidance.”

“She’s absolutely _sure_ the Angels are looking at each other?”

“Sounds sure, but, you know, no one’s all that keen to put it to the test.” Donna paused to think, covered the speaker with her hand and then posed a suggestion to him. “Do they have to be watched by someone in the room, or can the front desk guy keep an eye on them?”

“Good question. Wish I knew the answer.”

Well, that was just unhelpful. Donna pulled a face at him and griped, “I thought you’d faced these things before. Why wouldn’t you know? Aliens are supposed to be your specialty.”

“I did,” the Doctor shot back, clearly affronted. “And they are. But it’s rather hard to study something when any encounter with it tends to rip you out of your own time. The Time Lords don’t have much by the way of research when it comes to the Angels, so I’m figuring them out as I go.” She supposed he had a fair point there, though Donna wasn’t all that happy to have to admit it. “I say we have them try it.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

A beat of silence passed.

“I’ll fix it.”

Donna had her doubts, but she pulled her hand away from the speaker and said, “Reiter?”

“Yes?”

“Rausch has the hallway under surveillance, right?”

“Yes.”

“Have him watch the Angels while you and the others clear out of the area. Head back-” she stopped short. “Where should they go?”

“Safest thing would be to get out of the building. We’ve still got one more Angel that no one has set eyes on yet. It could be anywhere. But…”

“They still have patients to see to,” Donna finished for him. “And we can’t leave them defenseless.”

“Right.”

“Where does that leave us, then?”

* * *

A god and a Time Lord. As he’d told Stark, it hadn’t been tried before. But now that the opportunity had been presented to him, Loki wasn’t about to let it pass him by. No matter what obstacles stood in his way. The first of those being Lilith herself. He’d have to fix the damage he’d done there- not an easy task, but hopefully not an impossible one, either. Certainly easier than it would be to battle Odin’s objections.

_Or the Doctor’s, for that matter._

The latter might actually be of greater concern. The Doctor would likely block Loki from forming a relationship with Lilith once he discovered he wasn’t the only Gallifreyan who’d survived the Time War. Wouldn’t be too hard to imagine that he would want her for himself. But even if he didn’t, the Time Lord would have other reasons for keeping Lilith away from him in particular.

_Namely, her TARDIS. He won’t want me anywhere near it._

Couldn’t entirely blame him there, given the outcome of their previous encounter. The years that had passed since then, however, had given Loki a new perspective. He envisioned a whole different approach regarding Lilith’s- one that was hardly likely to upset the course of the whole universe. All well and good, but Loki doubted that the Doctor would be interested in giving him the opportunity to explain his intentions.

_Probably wouldn’t believe me, anyway._

 _Forget the Doctor- will_ Lilith _believe you?_

“So are we done here?” Barton’s impatient question offered him an excuse not to ask the one he’d posed to himself. “Because if we are, Fury wanted Nat and me in his office for a briefing. I’d just assume get down there before he implodes.”

While he’d directed that inquiry at Stark, the latter was too preoccupied with his cell phone to notice. He had just finished typing out some kind of message before moving right onto the next. Loki felt no small amount of unease. He wouldn’t put it past the mortal to make himself a meddling nuisance about Lilith- especially after that ‘class bad boy’ remark.

“Tony?”

The typing continued until Pepper reached over and took the phone out of his hands. Stark angled a disgruntled look at her. “Hey- I was using that.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Was, too. Give it here- I was in the middle of some very important correspondence.”

“Important, you say? Well, let’s just see what-” Pepper’s sentence cut short as she read the display before darting an alarmed glance in Loki’s direction. “Tony, you sure this was a good idea?”

After several minutes of expectant silence, Loki broke it himself to observe drily, “Let me guess- he’s sent text messages off to Lilith, hasn’t he?”

“Just a harmless suggestion regarding her holiday plans,” Stark protested, making an unsuccessful grab for his phone. With the other hand, he gestured to Loki and added, “Didn’t even mention anything about _you_ , so no need to give me the third degree.”

Pepper fended him off, getting up from the table. She read the messages again, and then cut a no-nonsense look back to Stark. “No, but you _did_ make a point of letting her know we suspect she’s a Time Lord.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Mr. Stark, sir?” JARVIS saved the mortal from whatever she’d been about to say, cutting the debate short. “Forgive the intrusion, but you have an urgent phone call from Director Fury.”

“Well, I doubt he’s calling up here on Hawk’s account, so this can’t be good news.” Stark switched on the telepresence screen at the far end of the room. “Go ahead and put him through.”

No sooner had he done so, Fury’s impatient scowl dominated the large monitor. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Director didn’t appear surprised in the least to see the whole team gathered for the call. Over the past few years since returning to Midgard, Loki had only crossed paths with the foul-tempered cyclops a half-dozen times or so. Hadn’t taken more than five minutes to know he had little use for the man; Fury, likewise, had little use for him.

_We’ll see what the joyless wonder wants today, I suppose._

“Fury- seems you had news that couldn’t wait for Hawk and Nat to get downstairs.”

“That it couldn’t. We’ve just received intel this morning that just might bust this Lenox Hill investigation wide open.”

Stark frowned, sweeping a glance around the table. Rogers and a few of the others merely shrugged, equally puzzled. Finally, Stark returned his eyes to the screen. “What investigation?’

“What investigation!?” Fury repeated in annoyed frustration. “The unexplained disappearances.” Still blank looks from the team. “Fifteen patients have disappeared since early November- not a damned trace left behind for any of them. The Chief of Police turned it over to S.H.I.E.L.D. just last week.”

Odd. Or at least it sounded odd to Loki. Missing persons wasn’t the sort of thing typically turned over to the agency. No reason not to have kept it in the hands of regular detectives. Not on the surface, anyway. So what had prompted the city to turn it over to S.H.I.E.L.D.? Judging by the dubious looks from several others seated at the large boardroom table, he wasn’t the only one pondering that particular question.

“I’ll admit, Fury, this is the first I’m hearing of it. Why’d George ask you all to get involved, anyway?”

“Doubt he wanted to, but when three of his best detectives went missing he wasn’t left with much of a choice. He went to the Feds first, but the guys at the bureau said they didn’t want to touch this with a ten-foot pole.”

“Jesus,” Barton swore under his breath.

Stark grimaced. “No ransom demands or anything like that?”

“Nothing. Not a god-damned thing. One minute they were there; the next, they were gone.” The Director leaned down to read something from his computer screen. “According to this, Detective Renault had been inspecting one of the patient rooms. When his partner came back with coffee for the both of them, Renault’s phone, notepad and keys were sitting on the bedside table. The man himself was gone.” He straightened up again. “None of the hospital security tapes show him leaving the room. Just up and vanished. It’s got the whole place spooked.”

Mildly unsettling, even from Loki’s perspective. The way he saw it, only two possible explanations fit. Either they were dealing with a massively elaborate cover up inside that hospital, or the people of that place were being preyed upon by an adversary capable of plucking them out of existence. Of those options, the former was the most likely- and the easiest to unravel once they found the underlying motivations.

_So why do I get the feeling it’s not going to be that straightforward?_

“You mentioned intel,” Rogers spoke up. “Something that might help solve the disappearances?”

Fury nodded. “Apparently, we’re not the only ones who’ve been looking into it. Received a call from U.N.I.T. just this morning.”

U.N.I.T.

Hearing Fury mention _that_ agency did not quell his unease one iota. Loki shot a glance to Thor across the table, who conveyed his own concerns with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. If U.N.I.T. was involved, then it wouldn’t be long before the Doctor would arrive. And when he did, he would not be pleased to find the two of them- Loki in particular- here in New York.

As for Stark and the others, they focused on the foremost matter at hand. Barton being the first to find his voice.

“I’m sorry- did you just say _‘U.N.I.T.’_?”

“I did- why?”

“It’s supposed to be a made up intelligence agency for a science-fiction television show, that’s why. And yet you sit there talking about it as if receiving a call from them isn’t anything unusual.”

“It isn’t.”

The Director’s candidly spoken reply left Barton and the rest of the mortals completely flabbergasted. For the second time today, their perception of reality had been destroyed and rebuilt. Pity that Fury couldn’t appreciate the humor of it, and just stared at them all with barely concealed impatience.

“So you’ve known all along that-”

“It was determined a few years ago that cooperation between our two agencies was in everyone’s best interest.”

“But you never _told_ any of us?”

“The information is highly classified. The team was kept on a ‘need to know’ basis.”

He wanted to laugh. Wanted to, but knew better. Still, it was hard to keep a straight face when Barton and Stark- even Banner and Rogers- were all left sputtering at having been kept in the dark by their precious Director. At having been treated little better than children. Quite the blow to their egos, Loki imagined.

“What did U.N.I.T. say,” Romanoff queried, having recovered her wits more quickly than the others.

“They were investigating a similar string of disappearances in a Salzburg hospital. Lost contact with their operative on the ground just today and haven’t been able to reach her since.”

“Disappeared like the detectives, I take it?”

“Yes, only hers comes as a much more alarming one, as they were quick to emphasize that they’ve _never_ lost contact with this operative no matter where she is.”

“I swear if he tells us her name is Martha Jones…” Uncomfortable silence followed Barton’s muttered threat. It stretched out until the archer couldn’t take it and let out an exasperated, “Oh come on- _really_? Fury, you can’t be serious.”

“I am dead serious. U.N.I.T. called once they were certain she had gone missing to warn us that we were dealing with a credible threat. And,” he added, “that they were calling in their best expert to locate her as well as solve the disappearances matter.”

_Best expert. We all know who_ that _is._

“So that’s why I placed this call up to you all. I may need the team to work with him once he’s got the situation in Salzburg contained. U.N.I.T. said they’d send him our way. In the meantime, Stark, I need your ass over at Lenox to see what you can find out.”

* * *

_Well, what are you going to do?_ Good question. I couldn’t very well hide in this bathroom for the foreseeable future- whatever it may turn out to be. And I absolutely couldn’t retrace my steps backward to try again. _Could I?_

Maybe I’d gone about this the wrong way- the timeline here at the Tower was far too tight to have ever made it before the TARDIS was discovered. A far better plan would have been to go for a preemptive strike. Stop Henry and his date from coming to the party in the first place. Wouldn’t be that hard to wheedle the guest list out of Stark and find out who they were. Then it was a matter of zipping back to put some sort of obstacle in the way of their getting to the Tower…

_Face it, you’ve already lost this battle. There’s nothing you can do but return to face the consequences._

_Or I could just leave altogether. Find a new time and space to settle into and…_

_Run away. Again._

I braced both hands on the vanity counter and bowed my head, unwilling to look myself in the eye. Too aware that I deserved the condemnation coloring those words. When I’d settled on Earth this last time, I’d _promised_ myself I wouldn’t fall into the destructive habits that had characterized my past. And yet here I was, letting the old fears decide the path of my future. I lifted my gaze to the glass.

“So what’s it going to be, Lilith? Are you going to keep rereading the same chapter, or is it time you picked up a new book?”

_Might be easier to do that if I wrote the last few lines of this one._

Meaning I’d have to settle things with the Doctor. Crossing paths with him had reopened our unfinished argument on Gallifrey- the one that had severed our bond in the first place. I’d walked away then, hurt by the unfair accusations he’d made; he let me go, driven by the self-righteous hubris that so often plagues the young. But now…perhaps we’d both matured enough to finally say the things that should have been said all those years ago.

_What’s the worst that could happen if we haven’t?_

_Nothing more than what has already happened._

_Fair enough._

“So I guess we’re doing this, then.” I took a step back and glanced over at the door. “Let’s just hope I can make it back out of here without tripping over anyone else.”

Easier said than done, since I’d locked myself up in the only ‘public’ bathroom available to Stark’s party guests. With the way my luck was going, a queue had already formed outside. Or, worse, Henry might have hauled a group of his friends back here to gawk at the TARDIS. That last thought got me moving more than anything else.

Unlocking the door, I peeked tentatively into the hall. No sign of Henry- or anyone else, for that matter. All the same, I was conscious of the murmur of voices not too far away, and hurried over to my office door. Had it locked and closed tight in less than a minute. Then it was a hasty retreat to the elevator. I punched the down button, shifting my weight impatiently from one foot to the other as I waited for it to arrive.

_Oh come on already._

Slightly louder voices behind me. Worse, ones I recognized. But then the elevator pinged, doors opening. I ignored the attempt by someone in the group to catch my attention as I practically threw myself inside and slammed my palm on the door close button. For what seemed like an eternity, I watched from the marginal safety of a corner, breathing a sigh of relief when no last minute hand or foot prevented my escape.

“Ms. Morgan?”

“Oh dammit,” I cursed at the floor. A moment later, I leaned back against the handrail and tried my best not to grimace. “Yes, JARVIS?”

“It appears that you are currently occupying two places at once,” the AI observed.

“Not for long. I was just leaving.”

“I see.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would be good enough to forget I was ever here. And if you didn’t mention to the others how I, um, got here the first time.”

Silence. JARVIS, ever concerned with making the _correct_ decision, was weighing the various pros and cons of doing as I asked. If he decided not to play along, Henry’s photo would be the least of my concerns. He may very well reroute the elevator right back up to the penthouse and I’d have to deal with the fall out tonight.

_Six years._ I berated myself. _Six years you worked in the Tower and managed to keep your true origins off his radar. Now look what you’ve gone and done._

JARVIS, unaware of my internal tirade, must have made up his mind. The AI replied primly, “Informing the team will not be necessary.”

Not the most comforting response. Something about the phrasing put me on alert, and I got the feeling that he’d done it intentionally. Swallowing back that sense of foreboding, I chose not to give into the temptation to ask him why. There’d be plenty of time for future me to deal with that problem.

“My thanks, JARVIS.” As the doors opened, I added, “I owe you one.”

“I did have a question, Ms. Morgan,” he called out just as I had one foot out of the elevator.

“And I’ll be happy to answer it when I get back.”

“It’s actually quite-”

“Kind of in a rush,” I interrupted him. “I left some friends in a bad spot and need to get back to help them out of it.”

And with that, I made straight for my TARDIS. Thankfully, just as I’d left it. At least _that_ part of my plan hadn’t gotten thrown off-kilter. Resetting the coordinates to take me back to Salzburg took me only a few minutes, and then I was on my way. Set her down again as if I’d never been gone.

“Best have a look, though, to make sure no one’s around to see me step out of a dumpster.” I pulled the monitor down and flipped a switch to turn it on. Stared. Blinked a few times. Stared at the screen another long moment. “Well, it’s a good thing I looked before walking straight into _that_.”

The TARDIS hadn’t landed in the alley as I’d intended, but had pulled slightly off-course to reappear in a corridor of St. Johanns. Smack in the middle of the standoff between the Doctor and one of the Angels, in point of fact. Maybe not quite in the _middle_ , since it would have blocked their ability to maintain eye contact, but damned close. Close enough to startle everyone.

While the Doctor continued to watch the Angel, Donna immediately raised her phone to her ear. A second later, mine lit up with an incoming call. Porting it over to the TARDIS main controls, I put the call on speaker.

“Hey. Looks like you two could use a bit of a rescue.”

“That we could. Reiter and her people took out the first two as planned. They’re checking up on patients and keeping everyone calm while we’ve got this one pinned down.”

“Leaving one Angel unaccounted for,” I surmised.

“Right. And no way to stop _this_ one if our eyes aren’t glued to it.”

Not the _worst_ of situations, but not the best, either. I thought for a moment before offering, “Care to step inside while we sort out what to do next?”

Donna passed on my suggestion to the Doctor, who hadn’t broken his staring contest with the Angel. I could tell by the gestures and body language that the two of them were having a heated debate, and realized that she must have put the call on mute. Nothing to do but watch them hash it out between them. Then finally, I saw the Doctor nod.

“Love to. Can you keep tabs on the Angel from inside?”

“You bet,” I told her, leaning slightly to my left to depress a button that would unlock the door. “You’re good to come on in.”

From behind me, I heard the sounds of the door opening. Donna and the Doctor hadn’t finished whatever discussion they’d been having, and their voices carried eerily through the cavernous space of the TARDIS’ main chamber. A word here and there managed to come in clearly enough, but not enough to make sense of the conversation. I didn’t turn, diligently watching the Angel, as the pair approached.

“So,” Donna remarked in a tone I knew meant trouble. “You came back after all.” The tenacious brunette sided up next to me. “Fixed your problem, then?”

“The opportunity passed me by,” I answered somewhat evasively. No use in lying out right, as the Doctor would find out soon enough that I hadn’t prevented the taking of that fateful photo. But I wasn’t about to admit that he’d probably been right, either. “I’ll just have to do damage control from this time once we’re through here.”

The Doctor still hadn’t said a word about my leaving or the fact that I’d come back. Was he surprised? Did he wish I hadn’t returned? Without looking, it was hard to gauge what he was thinking. With Donna beside me, I probably could have risked taking my eyes off the monitor to do it, but chose to wait out the uncomfortable silence until he worked up enough nerve to speak his mind.

Took longer than I expected.

“You can’t go back to that Tower now,” he said quietly. “You realize that, right?”

Ignoring the point he’d intended to make, I side-stepped it with an unconcerned shrug and replied lightly, “I admit, the dynamic will be different than it was.” _Understatement_. “Adjustments will have to be-”

The Doctor did not take kindly to having his concerns dismissed, and took a step close enough to put him in my field of vision. His expression held equal parts incredulity and anger as he gestured at me with both hands.

“ _Adjustments!?_ ” he spat out. “There’s no such thing as ‘adjustments’ in this case. You go back there and you’re giving _him_ access to a TARDIS. Have you _any_ idea what mayhem he would unleash if he had control of one?”

I knew exactly who the Doctor meant, even if he wouldn’t state the name outright. I kept my retort equally ambiguous as a result, reminding him, “Given that I’ve spent three years around him, I know far better than you would.” Where he would have pressed his point, I cut him off. “That’s an argument for later. If we can sort a way out of this mess with the Angels, that is. So- any brilliant ideas?”

* * *

They rolled into Lenox Hill around noon. Tony had brought a couple other members of the team with him, leaving the rest back at the Tower. On the latter list, Thor and Loki. Neither had wanted to risk crossing paths with the Doctor if he happened to show up. For obvious reasons. Bruce and Nat had also elected to stay behind. Which put Cap, Hawk and Wanda with him. More than enough to investigate things here.

_I hope._

The hospital felt like a madhouse charging down a steep hill on roller skates. People everywhere, and most of them none too happy. Fortunately, Fury had called ahead to tell the hospital administration that they were coming. Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents flanked one of its senior members, who had been awaiting them near the front reception desk. With a quiet nod of greeting, the four of them were ushered off to a side corridor before the mob took notice.

When they came to a discreet door and stopped, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents melted away, leaving Tony and the rest of his team to handle the situation alone. He read the gold, embossed letters on the door’s placard: Antoine Toulouse, Associate Executive Director of Quality Management and Patient Care Management. An interesting sort of title, but not anything that came as a surprise. The director himself was a dark-haired man in his mid-forties who walked with a slight limp. He opened the door and gestured for them to enter. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Toulouse apologized with a weary smile. “With all that’s been going on lately, I haven’t had a chance to keep on top of my filing.”

The ‘mess’ consisted of a few haphazard piles of manila folders on the large oak desk. Bright neon post-it notes labeled them with various instructions that made little sense to Tony. Much like his own cryptic notes must look like to anyone else. Wasn’t worth puzzling over. He shrugged it off and returned the smile.

“If you think this is bad, you ought to see Director Fury’s office. We could hide a crate of RPGs in there and he’d never even know.”

_Still hasn’t found the surprise I tucked in there last month,_ he thought with amusement. _But one of these days…_

The jest made Toulouse a little uncomfortable, judging by his nervous laughter. Probably wasn’t the most appropriate time to talk about weapons and such. But then, Tony never was known for keeping his personality in check. He offered the administrator a chagrined wince by way of apology and pushed the conversation forward.

“So I guess you’re supposed to give us the rundown of the situation, Toulouse?”

“Please, call me Antoine. And yes, it made the most sense to meet with you, as I’ve been the primary liaison during the investigation.”

“Been in it from the beginning, huh?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Fury didn’t tell us much, but he did say that this all started last month. Just a few patients at first- and more recently, a few detectives,” Tony cast a sideways look to the others and then back again. “Let’s start with the patients.”

Toulouse nodded.

“Of course. Fifteen missing so far. All from the Pediatric Center up on the second floor. First one disappeared the day after the Halloween party, and then we started losing one or two a week. I have a list that you’ll probably want to-”

Cap’s attention was caught, and he interjected, “Pardon- did you say the _Pediatric_ Center?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It’s made the disappearances all the more tragic. I’ve had to deliver the news to heartbroken and anxious parents more times than I care to remember over the past six weeks.”

_Children_. Not fifteen patients. Fifteen _children_ had gone missing. And all of them seriously ill. Tony’s stomach did an unpleasant flip-flop at that thought; Cap and Hawk’s dejected expressions told him they weren’t faring much better. No doubt imagining just the sort of reasons why someone would want to abduct a child.

_We’ll find what we find. No sense dwelling on just what that might be._

“I’m guessing that the NYC detectives have already interviewed the staff and anyone connected with the victims,” Hawk observed with a slight cough. “I suppose we ought to start there before we start asking questions that have already been answered.”

“They did, but Detective Ibsen was in possession of the files…”

“Let me guess,” Wanda supplied with a rueful grimace. “He’s one of the three who’ve gone missing.”

“You’d guess correctly.”

“So we’re back to square one.”

From bad to worse. Tony found it just a little too coincidental that the one person in charge of the casefile was among those missing. And that said evidence had likewise vanished. Interesting that Fury hadn’t mentioned that earlier. His first instinct was to suspect a cover up. Cameras could be tampered with; witnesses could be bought off. Especially if something was going on that the hospital wanted to hide.

But while that theory made sense, it didn’t explain the Salzburg connection Fury mentioned. Or why U.N.I.T. would be involved. Or the Doctor, for that matter. When adding those pieces to the puzzle, a routine cover up operation sounded less likely. He was still trying to parse all of it out when Toulouse’s phone rang. An incongruently cheerful tune at odds with the somber mood in the room. Toulouse glanced at the display and sighed.

“You need to get that,” Tony asked.

“Parents of the most recent victim. I was expecting them later this afternoon, but they must have arrived ahead of schedule.”

“No sense keeping them waiting on our account. In fact,” Cap offered, “we’d all be more than happy to come along if you thought it would help.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate it. They’ve already had a tough year after the older son passed away last fall. It won’t be easy to tell them that they’ve likely lost the younger boy as well.”

Something about the administrator’s answer struck Tony as oddly familiar. As if he’d heard a similar story but couldn’t quite place where or when. He braced himself against a gunmetal grey filing cabinet as he racked his brain for something that would jog his memory. Meanwhile, Toulouse answered his phone and brought the receiver to his ear. A muffled voice on the other end delivered an apologetic sounding message.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll meet them in the room. Two minutes.” He hung up and vacated his seat. “If you wouldn’t mind the walk, we’ll be headed up to the Pediatric Center. I’ve found these conversations tend to go better when I sit the parents down in the patient’s room. This office comes off as a bit…sterile and cold.”

“We don’t mind at all.”

Toulouse led them on another journey through the warren of hospital corridors. An elevator brought them up to the second floor in no time at all, where they emerged into the main reception area of the Pediatric Center. Busy here, just like downstairs. And not surprisingly, staff and patients alike took note of the team’s dramatic arrival. No one approached, but more than one jabbed an elbow into an oblivious companion and pointed excitedly in their direction.

They passed the desk and entered a long hallway lined with private patient rooms. A third of the way down, Toulouse’s steps shuffled to a halt. He favored them with a grim look. “Well, here’s hoping this is the last one of these speeches I’ll have to deliver.”

With that, he entered the room. Rather than follow immediately after him, Tony remained out in the hall. Obviously, the rest of the team hadn’t anticipated his hesitation, which was how Hawk ended up scuffing the heel of Tony’s shoe. Not to mention his foot. From over his shoulder, the others muttered their collective surprise.

“Stark, what gives?”

“Let’s just hold up a minute before we barge in there. Let Toulouse break the news to the family without the added distraction of having us crowding up the room.”

No one argued his point, and they stood hovering just outside as the administrator greeted the couple beyond Tony’s line of sight.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Wasserman.” _Wasserman?_ “I’m Antoine Toulouse, head of Patient Care Management, and I want to say first and foremost that I am incredibly sorry to bring you such terrible news about your son.”

A strained female voice replied, “How could this have happened- how could Todd just _disappear_?”

Whatever Toulouse said next was lost; Tony’s mind had stumbled at hearing a familiar name. Now he recalled where he’d heard about an older brother who’d passed away. The Wassermans had explained how the boys had been close and how Todd had been having a hard time without him. He turned to the others, who were also reeling from shock. None of them had forgotten the little boy with the unruly mop of red hair- or his story. Not even the Trickster. And now…

_Missing. Gone without a trace._ He set his jaw in determination. _Well then, all the more reason to solve this mystery._


	11. Compelled Coordination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first, we're back to 1918 with Martha and Karl. Their day- which has been quite the long one- is coming to a close. Karl will have one last standoff against Dr. Sperber about the children. And things don't get easier for them when their new colleagues help get them to a boarding house for the night. Once in their room, however, Martha will bring up a few ideas about how to contact the Doctor for a rescue.
> 
> In the present, the Doctor is left scratching his head with a plan about how to defeat the remaining Weeping Angels. An unexpected phone call from U.N.I.T. will provide an unwelcome answer to what has happened to the fourth Weeping Angel. Even worse, now the Doctor is being dragged into a conference with the last people he wants to talk to right now.
> 
> Speaking of them...Stark's getting back to the Tower, feeling dejected after an afternoon at the hospital has failed to produce any decent leads to follow. The rest of the team isn't much more optimistic when given a rundown of the facts. Fury doesn't do much to improve the mood- nor does the prospect of a conference call with U.N.I.T. But everyone's there, and they're all surprised to see Lilith standing next to the Doctor.

They spent the rest of the afternoon checking all of the children in the ward. Karl walked around the narrow aisles between the cots, performing careful examinations and asking questions from the more lucid patients. Martha followed close behind, taking notes in each child’s chart. On a separate notepad, she listed the medical supplies Karl was hoping to obtain. The latter proved to be more challenging than expected. Several times, they’d inadvertently added something that needed to be crossed off again.

_Can’t ask for medicines that won’t be invented for another forty years or so._

For some of these kids, the difference between having and not having those medications would weigh heavily in whether they would survive. Kids like Lukas, who was suffering from Grave’s Disease. Extremely rare, given his age and gender, but manageable with something like Thiamatole or radioiodine therapy. The boy had just begun treatment, apparently, when the Weeping Angels snatched him up. If stuck _here_ , the eight year old was facing surgery, or worse…no treatment at all.

They’d just finished with the last child when the ward door opened. Martha caught sight of Dr. Sperber out of the corner of her eye, but kept writing as if she didn’t notice. Best to just let the pompous ass approach Karl and hope he refrained from making any more comments directed at her.

“Dr. Steinbauer. A word, if you please.”

Karl raised his head and nodded to acknowledge the other physician. “Of course, Dr. Sperber.”

They met in the center of the room, leaving Martha to eavesdrop from the sidelines. To keep occupied, she skirted one of the beds to get back to Erika. The girl didn’t voice any questions as she fussed with the blanket and repositioned her cast. The other children took their cue from her, maintaining wary silence while shooting Martha a glance whenever they thought no one was looking. For Sperber’s part, he ignored all of them, his attention focused on Karl.

“I trust you have had a productive afternoon. Not that we’re expecting _miracles_ straight off, but the files should have given you an idea what you’ll be working with.”

“They provided a starting point regarding the physical ailments,” Karl agreed with far more poise than Martha could have managed.

“And the mental instabilities?”

“All in good time. First order of business is to get them as stable as possible. Useless to treat sick minds when they are distracted by a sickness of the body.”

Clever. She gave Karl points for giving a plausible reason to stall investigation into the children’s so-called ‘delusions’. They could easily spend several days treating _real_ illnesses while figuring out how to signal the Doctor. Although, if it took longer than that to engineer a rescue, coming up with a back-up plan would be necessary. Likely one that would enlist the help of the children themselves.

_And_ then _what?_

_Hoping I won’t need an answer to that question._

“…not advisable.”

Martha had gotten distracted by that train of thought and had now missed part of the conversation. From what she did catch of Sperber’s reply, she was regretting her momentary lapse of attention. Whatever was said didn’t sit well with the physician, who appeared flustered and mildly irritated. Karl faced him, unperturbed, and pressed his point.

“I cannot properly diagnose patients who are sedated to such a degree, Dr. Sperber. Therefore, you will respect my order that no one is to resume doses unless directed by me. _Personally_.”

The two men regarded one another in silence that lasted several minutes. In that time, Martha saw how Karl had risen to chief resident at such a young age. Even now, thrown a century out of his time and facing a situation completely out of his depth, he radiated an aura of calm authority. Sperber was no match for it, and conceded the loss with no small amount of resentment.

“As you wish, Dr. Steinbauer. But you will be solely responsible for any damages incurred to the premises or hospital personnel.”

“Understood. Was there anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I meant to ask if you required any assistance getting to the boarding house for the evening. Several physicians are finished for the day and are bound for that establishment.”

“I would appreciate the escort, yes.” Karl’s eyes met hers from across the room. “Martha, if you would return all of the charts and bring my personal notes with you. We’ll be leaving at once.”

She bobbed a shallow curtsey while Sperber coughed lightly and said, “Well then, I won’t detain you any longer. Rattmeyer and Ketch will meet you at the front entrance.”

Not wanting to miss their best chance at getting decent lodgings, they didn’t linger too long after Sperber left. Karl gave Erika and Ira instructions to follow until the next morning. Mostly what to tell the children who would be awakening over the next few hours. Beyond that, there wasn’t much more to be done. They made the long trek through the various wards to meet with the two men waiting for them.

“So,” one of them remarked. “You’re the one who drew the short straw and has to deal with the head cases?”

“I’m working the children’s ward, if that’s what you mean.”

“No offense meant.” The second man offered his hand. “Ketch. Dietrich Ketch. I’m assisting Sperber with internal medicine and general surgery.”

“Karl Steinbauer.”

“From Wien, right?”

“Ja. Arrived this morning with my assistant.”

Speculating looks roved over her, but Martha paid them little mind. She strove for a bland expression while hanging a half-step back from the group. Ketch opened his mouth, clearly wanting to delve into just what her ‘assistance’ entailed. Rattmeyer elbowed him in the ribs before he could ask his first question. The older gentleman turned the conversation to safer waters.

“Then I’d wager you’d like to get settled in the boarding house.”

“Indeed. We had a long journey in getting here and it’s been quite the afternoon assessing my new patients.”

“That it would be. Ketch and I’ll help carry your bags out and we can be on our way.”

Karl shook his head with a wry smile. “No need. We didn’t bring any luggage.”

“Nothing?”

“My wife will be sending it along with her. She’s due to join me in a week or two. In the meantime, I can manage well enough.”

Martha was glad they’d all begun walking out to the street so that the other two couldn’t see her face. She’d been caught off-guard. Both by the question about bags and by Karl’s answer. While they’d needed a plausible explanation for a lack of possessions, it would have been wiser not to invent a wife. Too complicated. A story like that required too many details.

_Too late to undo that now. I’ll just have to speak with Karl about best practices once we’re alone again._

Thankfully, their two companions didn’t press for any of those non-existent details during their short trip to the boarding house. Rattmeyer stopped outside a five-story building only seven or eight blocks away from St. Johanns. The sign out front read ‘Die Stille Decke’. For her sake, she hoped that it would be as peaceful as the name suggested. Hoped for Karl’s sake as well. He’d already fought one battle on her behalf; Martha didn’t want to make trouble for him here.

The four of them entered what must have been a front parlor, now converted to a lobby. A middle-aged woman stood behind the desk, sharp eyes taking in their group and offering a tight-lipped smile that thinned when she saw Martha. Ketch spoke up before she could express her indignation.

“Evening, Frau Gabelhoff. I’ve brought the newest additions to our hospital staff- Dr. Steinbauer and his assistant. They’ll be boarding here until they can find permanent lodgings.”

Those eyes narrowed, cold and decidedly hostile as she replied, “We have no available rooms.”

Ketch shot Karl a sympathetic wince, turned back to the woman and reminded her, “Dr. Sperber reserved seven rooms for the hospital’s use. Four of those remain vacant, unless I am mistaken.”

“The rooms are reserved, ja.”

“Then you have ample means of accommodating my colleague.”

“I regret that I cannot, Herr Ketch.”

As the young doctor stood in flummoxed silence over her rebuff of his bantering logic, Rattmeyer stepped in with a different tactic altogether. He leaned against the counter and regarded the lady with a deadpan stare. His voice left no doubt that he was used to wielding authority and having it obeyed without question.

“I realize you are concerned about the reputation of your establishment, Frau Gabelhoff. But I should advise you that the presence of Steinbauer’s assistant would tarnish it far less than having it said you are unwilling to honor your commitments- especially those made to the medical professionals tending to the men who fought for their country.”

Words that left no room for misinterpretation. The stout woman, seeing her options, reached beneath the counter to retrieve a brass key. She thrust it at Karl with a disgruntled huff and spat out the corresponding room number. While he retrieved it, their two escorts set about arranging for an evening meal. Not surprisingly, eating in the taproom was out of the question for Martha; Frau Gabelhoff was only willing to bend so far and would have their meals brought up to the room.

“In that case,” Karl said, “I believe I shall retire. It has been a long day.”

* * *

He really didn’t have anything resembling a plan. The relay race idea had been a shot in the dark, quite frankly. And while it seemed to have worked for two of the Angels, the Doctor was at a loss how to deal with this one. Not to mention the one who’d yet to make an appearance. One on one, odds were against them in just about every respect.

_You also said the odds were against Lilith coming back, and yet she did._ The less said about Lilith right now, the better. He was still furious about her decision to cross her timeline. All the more so given that the effort hadn’t succeeded. _Or that she’s still planning to return to that damned Tower._

 _Sounded to me that it wasn’t so much the_ Tower _that’s the issue,_ his thoughts countered.

_It_ is _an issue._

 _But not_ the _issue._

No, certainly not _the_ issue. While not ideal that the Avengers were now aware Time Lords existed outside the realm of science fiction, the Doctor highly doubted any of them could coerce Lilith into doing anything she really didn’t want to do regarding her TARDIS. Even less likely they would ever get their hands on it. But the Asgardians- Laufeyson in particular…that presented a far more concerning danger. With his talent for manipulation and deceit, the god stood a very good chance of wresting control of Lilith’s TARDIS.

_Especially as it seems he’s already conned his way into her good graces._

A problem to solve once he’d gotten a handle on the one in front of him. Sadly, the Doctor was no closer to a plan than he’d been a few minutes ago. Having Donna and Lilith staring at him wasn’t helping. Well, Lilith wasn’t staring at him, since her attention was needed to hold the Angel in Quantum-lock. Donna, though, fixed him with her most expectant look.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What we’re talking about, spaceman. We need to do _something_ about that Angel thing out there.”

“I don’t disagree,” he acknowledged. “But without the last one, our options are severely limited.”

He intended to go on, but the ring of his mobile caused him to stop short in startled surprise. As far as he knew, only Martha had this number. So if she was trapped in the past without her mobile, just who could it be? Only one way to answer that question. The Doctor raised the device to his ear and hit the accept call button.

“Doctor?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Colonel Mace, sir. From U.N.I.T.”

“Just what I don’t need right now,” he muttered sullenly, not at all liking that the agency had direct access to him. In a louder voice, he queried, “And dare I inquire _how_ you came to possess this number?”

“Security protocol, Doctor. Jones did not respond to an urgent message with any of the expected replies within the time limit, and so her mobile sent headquarters this number to engage you for help.” Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t argue against the reasoning. “Is Jones with you, Doctor? Is she all right?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I see.” The colonel paused. “Then I fear the situation may be quite serious. You see, Doctor, Jones was investigating unusual disappearances-”

“In Salzburg. Yes, I’m aware.”

“Oh. So she must have contacted-”

“I happened to be in the city,” the Doctor cut in for a second time, hardly caring if he was being rude. They didn’t have time to rehash details he already knew. “And discovered that she was here by sheer coincidence. I just wish I had arrived a little while sooner.”

After a long moment of silence, Mace replied, “Then I take it Jones has disappeared.”

“You would be correct.”

“Damn. When she checked in earlier today, we were no closer to discovering who was behind this.”

“Weeping Angels.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Weeping Angels have been hunting in Salzburg. Four of them.”

“Not the same four you encountered before, are they? U.N.I.T.’s file indicated those were defeated.”

“Different set.”

The line quieted as something- the colonel’s hand, most likely- covered the speaker. On their side, a muffled conversation was taking place. On his side, the Doctor took the opportunity to catch the others up. Not a moment too soon; Donna had nearly burst with impatience, pestering him with questioning gestures the whole time. He’d just managed to answer them when Mace’s voice came back on again. He put the mobile on speaker.

“Doctor?”

“Still here.”

“U.N.I.T. is prepared to send a team to Salzburg to deal with the Angels. Is there anything in particular you need?”

He’d rather they didn’t send anyone or anything. But at the same time, the Doctor knew he needed more help than he was likely to get from Reiter or the local government. Better to get that help from an agency set up to handle things like this.

“Two of them have been incapacitated. I have the third under observation now.”

“And the last one?”

“We, uh,” the Doctor resisted the impulse to fidget. “Lost contact with that one and aren’t sure where it is.”

More muffled discussions, and then Mace said, “Is there any way one of them may have ended up in New York City- or that we’re dealing with another group entirely?”

“Why?” the Doctor demanded in alarm.

“Earlier today, S.H.I.E.L.D. contacted us about a similar string of disappearances in an NYC hospital.”

“Starting when?”

“Director Fury said the first child went missing day after Halloween. Fifteen total in the weeks since.”

From her position at the console, he saw Lilith’s shoulders twitch. A movement that sent a spiral of dread to the pit of his stomach. He put the mobile on mute and sided up next to her.

“When you crossed your timeline, did you…?”

Lilith cleared her throat and admitted, “I went back to Halloween eve, yes.”

“Meaning it’s highly likely that the fourth Angel went along for the ride and is now loose in a completely different city.”

“Yes, and before you say it, I accept that it’s all my fault. But casting blame isn’t going to help us find the missing children. Or Martha. Or anyone else. So if you could table the lecture until later, I’m sure they’d all appreciate it.”

She had a point; the Doctor chose to ignore it.

“No, I think we’d better discuss it now. We almost had all four Angels under control. Could have stopped them tonight.”

“There’s-”

“But no,” he continued, talking over her protest. “You just _had_ to run off to fix your ‘problem’. Even though I told you _not_ to. And now not only did you fail in _that_ endeavor, you allowed an Angel to escape and endangered dozens of other lives in the process.”

“Doctor? Doctor are you still there?”

He shot an annoyed glance down at the mobile in his hand, unmuted it for a second and said, “Yes. Having a chat amongst ourselves.”

“Any sense about whether the New York cases are somehow related to Salzburg?”

“Oh they’re related all right,” he snarled before he could stop himself. “That’s almost certainly our missing Angel.”

“I see. Well, perhaps this would be an opportune time to consolidate our efforts with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s investigation. They could use your help in pinning down the Angel, Doctor.”

_Isn’t that just terrific._

* * *

They were on their way back to the Tower, having spent the last four hours talking with various staff members at Lennox Hill. Since that detective had disappeared with all of the case info, they were starting at square one again. Interviewing anyone and everyone who’d had the remotest connection to the missing kids. Exhausting and mentally draining, but far easier than their conversation with the Wassermans, in Steve’s opinion; he hadn’t been prepared to know any of the victims personally.

_All the more pressure to solve what’s going on and find the kids._

He wasn’t the only one feeling that way. During the interviews, Stark had been uncharacteristically serious, refraining from making his typical flippant remarks. He took the lead in asking the questions, but Wanda and Hawk had been just as avid to get in their own from time to time. Steve took point when it came to jotting down the answers.

_Not much in the way of those, unfortunately._

A whole lot of bizarre incidences that just didn’t add up. The idea that extraterrestrials were behind the disappearances was seeming more and more likely. If a group of people- or even one person- was taking the kids, they couldn’t do it without help from the doctors and nurses. And security. And who knew who else. Just too many points of failure to get away with it again and again.

“Well,” Stark said with a sigh. “I dunno about the rest of you, but I am not liking our odds on this thing.”

“It doesn’t look good,” Hawk agreed. “And I don’t like that Fury kept us out of the loop for so long. We should have been called in _weeks_ ago.”

“He only got it last week, Hawk.”

“Then we should have been called in a week ago.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Wanda voiced a puzzled, “To me, it sounded as though Fury thought we already knew about the case.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “That’s the same impression I got.”

“Me, too,” Stark admitted. “But I swear he’s never said a god damned word about it.”

The four of them tossed around ideas and theories on the ride back to the Tower, but didn’t get too deep in the details. Hardly made sense if they were going over everything with the rest of the team once they got there. On Steve’s part, he wondered what reactions they’d get from the others- about the Wassermann boy in particular.

_Might be for the best that Lilith’s not at the Tower these next few weeks. Of all of us, she had the most interaction with Todd during the party._

The car dropped them off outside the building. On account of the hour, Stark had them take one of the side entrances meant only for the team. Steve was grateful to avoid running the gauntlet of the main lobby. After the day they’d just had, he had no energy left to deal with autographs and the like. He followed Hawk into the waiting elevator, making room for the others.

In the penthouse, they crossed paths with Thor first. The god was camped out in the living room- probably had been there since the call came in earlier. He stood up to greet them, having discarded his phone on a nearby end table.

“That took a while,” Thor observed. “Guessing it’s as bad as Fury said.”

“Worse,” Stark replied.

“How much worse?”

“In a minute- where’re the others?”

“Around here somewhere. We all stuck close just in case we were needed.”

Instead of wasting time hunting them down himself, Stark opted for a more direct approach. “Hey JARVIS? Would you get everyone assembled in the main conference room?”

“Of course, sir.”

By the time they got there, Nat and Bruce were already seated at the table. Pepper arrived shortly thereafter with Loki trailing in last. Steve took a seat facing the windows and pulled out his handwritten notes. Likely wouldn’t need them, but better to have them at his fingertips to fill in any gaps.

“All right, Stark, we’re here. What’s the story at Lennox Hill,” Bruce asked.

“It’s like Fury said this morning. Fifteen kids, two nurses and three detectives have vanished. All of them gone without a trace.” He paced back and forth at the head of the table. “We spoke with everyone- top to bottom, and they all give the same account. For the kids, the nurses’ station would receive a call, but by the time the night nurse arrived to help…the room was empty.”

“Night nurse,” Nat repeated thoughtfully. “Did the abductions all happen at night, then?”

Hawk nodded, adding, “According to the staff, always between midnight and two in the morning.”

“Just the missing kids, or the others a well”

“Same for them. The two nurses were answering calls for kids who came up missing and never came back. Detectives Ibsen, Renault and Forrest all disappeared when their partners left the room. They were conducting overnight stake-outs, hoping they might be around to catch the culprits in the act.”

From the other end of the table, Loki observed drily, “It would seem they succeeded in that aim a little too well, and wound up adding their names as the most recent victims.”

Stark and Hawk exchanged a glance, and then the former cleared his throat. “Actually…the most recent victim turned out to be someone else. Someone we all know.” He paused for a moment. “One of the kids from the charity thing a few weeks back- Todd Wasserman.”

Dead silence. Even the Trickster appeared to be taken aback by the announcement. More so than Steve expected. Granted, everyone had heard some version of the god’s curious encounter with the boy- although never from Loki _himself_. But they’d all assumed he’d considered the experience mildly amusing at the time, and dismissed it almost as soon as it had ended.

_Maybe we were wrong on that score._

“Todd,” Bruce repeated. “The redhead, right?”

“Yes. According to his parents, he’d gone in for treatment a few days ago. Vanished last night…same MO as the others.”

“Security tapes?”

“No one in or out of the room other than the nurse who answered his call button,” Stark replied. “And before anyone asks, I checked the recording. No one has tampered with it.”

“Not sure whether to see that as a positive, given that it would have offered us _somewhere_ to begin.”

A grim and yet undeniable truth, Steve had to admit. He leafed through his notes in search of _anything_ that might get them started. Three times through it and he couldn’t pick out more than Nat had already observed. All the attacks happened in the dead of night. But aside from that, no other discernable pattern. Different nurses on duty; different people down at reception. No unusual names popping up on the visitor’s log.

“You don’t suppose aliens really do have anything to do with this,” he heard Wanda speculate from across the table. “Like what that woman was investigating in Salzburg.”

“Oh c’mon, Wanda,” Hawk protested. “You can’t be ready to make that kind of leap so early, can you? Just because we’ve got squat for leads right now…”

The two of them devolved into a heated disagreement while Nat and Bruce plied Stark with more questions. Meanwhile, the sun had set below the horizon, casting the city in shades of twilight. The room took on a more depressing atmosphere in the growing darkness, so Steve rose from his seat to switch on the overhead lights. Gave him something to do.

_And now it’s back to feeling useless again._

“Mr. Stark, sir?” All conversations fell silent at JARVIS’ interruption. “Director Fury is on the phone for you.”

“Again?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Expecting an update, no doubt.”

“I believe so, sir.”

“Put him through, then. Though I dunno what there is to say.”

The screen used for video conferences lit up as the AI transferred Fury’s call to the conference room. He surveyed their group just as he’d done this morning before directing his attention at Stark. When he didn’t say anything, the latter jumped right in.

“If you’re looking for answers, we don’t have any.”

“You were over there half the day- I’m not expecting you to hand me the bastards on a silver platter, but I’d think you’d have _some_ ideas about where you’re taking the investigation.”

“Based on what we heard, short of standing up armed sentries in every room of that hospital, finding a likely culprit is a tall order.” Stark sighed. “What of our friends across the ocean- any further word from U.N.I.T.?”

“Last I heard they hadn’t gotten in contact with their expert, but Colonel Mace is due to provide me with an update in the next few minutes.”

As if right on cue, they heard the sound of ringing in Fury’s office. He cut a hard glance down to his desk and picked up the receiver. “Fury.”

Steve waited alongside the rest of the team as a garbled voice answered from the other side of the line. The Director’s expression gave no indication what was being said. No surprise here. And then Fury spoke.

“So he’s already there.” A beat of silence. “I’ll conference you in.”

* * *

Their room was cramped and the furniture had seen better days. Martha shared a dubious glance with Karl, who was likewise unimpressed. They’d had to climb up four flights of stairs, and from the look of things, the five rooms on this floor all shared the same bathroom. Her only consolation was that they wouldn’t be sharing a bed. She’d had to do that once with the Doctor when they’d met Shakespeare and the Carronites, and wasn’t keen to repeat the experience.

Heaving a sigh, she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’d say I’ve had about enough of this day.”

“Agreed.” He sat on the edge of one of the beds and rubbed both hands over his face. “I haven’t been this exhausted since the days when I was studying to pass my exams.”

“Given that we were thrown into working an extra eight hours, it’s understandable. When I travelled with the Doctor, we had plenty of days like this. I’d forgotten what that was like.”

_One of the reasons why I had to give it up. I just couldn’t keep pace with that lifestyle._

“Martha?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think it’s possible to get back to our time? Or are we stuck here? Tell me honestly.”

She thought for a long moment, sinking to the bed beside him. Her gaze remained forward. Followed a spidery crack in the plaster that meandered its way across the wall. It wasn’t _impossible_. But a gap of forty years was a lot easier to span than an entire century. Especially knowing what was about to happen in the next twenty.

_Risky to rely on a messenger, even if he or she survives WWII, the chances of making it to 2018 are slim to none. And that’s if we could convince someone to carry the message for us in the first place._

Using one of the children would be the best chance if they were to go that route. Young enough to make it feasible they _might_ still be alive, and no need to convince them that time travel was real. Only one problem: whichever child carried the message would be stranded here. Would have to find a new life in this time and never return to the one they’d left.

_Quite a lot to ask that of a child._

“Martha?”

She jolted, drawn out of her deliberation by Karl’s probing query. And then she shifted to look him in the eye. “There is a way.”

“But?”

“It comes at a cost, and I’m not sure if it’s one we’re willing to pay.” When he didn’t interrupt her, Martha went on. “Last time, the Doctor and I sent someone with a message to get help. A man by the name of Billy Shipton. Like us, he’d been sent back to 1969. So we gave him a message and told him to deliver it to a woman- Sally Sparrow- on a specific time and date. From there, she’d be able to set things in motion so that the TARDIS came back to fetch us.”

“But if he was sent to 1969, how was he supposed to deliver this message to someone in the 2000’s?”

“The long way,” she answered quietly.

For quite some time, Karl stared at her in uncomprehending silence. But then wheels caught, turned, and understanding dawned with a dismayed frown.

“Someone would have to remain here. When the Doctor arrives to rescue everyone, that person has to stay behind. Otherwise, he or she could not deliver the message that tells him where to look for us.”

“Yes.”

“You’re right. A very high cost. And not one without significant risk that it would not succeed in the end.”

“Very true.” Martha folded her hands in her lap. “But the alternative is leaving a written message for him hidden somewhere in the city with the hope it will survive the coming war. And,” she added. “That he would know where to _find_ it.”

They sat next to one other without speaking for several minutes, each pondering their limited options. Martha might have favored leaving a written message if she could guarantee the Doctor would _find_ it. Salzburg had plenty of buildings that survived WWII- St. Johanns being one of them. But she couldn’t leave anything obvious without risking its discovery by someone else. Nor could she be sure the Doctor would come to the city at all.

_Well, if the security protocols on my mobile are working as they_ should _, U.N.I.T. will be telling him I’ve gone missing and where I was any minute now. So that’s one worry down. And one more reason to hope we_ don’t _need to put this burden on one of the kids._

“We could try that route first, though. Give it a week and if the Doctor doesn’t turn up…well, then we look into a plan B.”

Karl nodded slowly. “I would prefer to give that approach a try.”

A knock at the door announced the arrival of their promised dinner. Martha offered to get it, but he rose first. The buxom blonde on the other side of the door greeted him with a curtsey and a cheery smile. Quite the contrast to their reception in the lobby. And then the girl peeked around Karl to notice her. Her eyebrows shot up and she said something in rapid German that Martha couldn’t translate. The tone didn’t _sound_ as if the servant was expressing anything more than surprise, though.

“Our thanks for the meal,” Karl thanked her. “Would it be possible to receive a courtesy wake-up call at eight tomorrow morning?”

The blonde assured him it would be her pleasure, and with one last furtive look in Martha’s direction, scurried back the way she’d come. He let a second or two pass before closing the door and locking it.

“I didn’t quite catch what she said- anything I should worry about?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He brought the tray over. “Although I wouldn’t advise venturing around alone. The servants who don’t ostracize you may prove to be a bit forward in asking personal questions.”

“On the subject of personal questions,” she began while taking a bowl of stew from the tray. “Now might be a good time to iron out some of our ‘backstory’. It won’t do us any good if we’re contradicting each other.”

He handed her a chunk of bread and took the other half for himself. In between bites, he said, “Good idea. I fear I may have made a mistake earlier when talking to my new colleagues.”

“The wife comment- yes, if we’re stuck here for more than a week that could get a bit messy to clean up.” _Unless someone else at the hospital goes missing._ “But we’ll cross that bridge when we have to.”

“And what happens when the physician Dr. Sperber is expecting from Wien arrives? I meant to ask you how we will explain ourselves in that regard, Martha.”

_Good question._

She asked herself what that Doctor would do. Didn’t really help much, since the only answer she got there was that he’d flash his psychic paper around to provide the necessary credentials. They didn’t have psychic paper. Didn’t have a TARDIS with wardrobes of period-appropriate clothing. Didn’t have anything but their own wits. Martha was not liking this method of time travel one bit.

_Think,_ she ordered sternly. _Think, woman. What_ do _we have?_

“Why don’t you cozy up to the other doctors- like those two we met tonight?”

“And do what?”

“Ask them about hospitals they came from- see if you can tell what ones in Wien they were expecting to receive help from. And which ones they _weren’t_.”

Karl caught on, setting his spoon in his half-empty bowl and nodding slowly. All in all, the stew wasn’t that bad. Still, she probably didn’t want to know what meat was in it. She scraped the remnants of her meal with a crust of bread. Karl took another bite of his before answering.

“I see. If I can ferret out that information, I can build a story that explains why another doctor arrives for the post I claimed.” He frowned. “Of course, if he’s a pediatrician, we may have an issue. He’ll want to work in the ward with us- may take control if I can’t convince him I have seniority.”

“True,” Martha admitted. “We’ll think of something.”

_Or, hopefully, by the time said doctor arrives…there’ll be no ward for him to run._

* * *

Thor half-expected to see the video screen split with a second image, but when Fury made the connection, it was still just him. The disembodied voice of Colonel Mace confirmed the U.N.I.T. commander could hear just fine. And then Mace said something Thor wasn’t quite expecting.

“Doctor- you still on the line?”

A second voice came through, tone leaving no doubt of its lack of enthusiasm for attending this particular meeting as it said, “Still here.”

He didn’t recognize the voice. If not familiar with Time Lord lore, Thor might have dismissed it all as a trick of some kind. But in the years since the Doctor had been to Asgard, he had likely underwent at least one regeneration. If that were the case, more than his voice would have changed, and Thor couldn’t guarantee he’d recognize his face, either. Yet another reason the concept of Time Lords made him uneasy.

“Sounds like we’re all here, then,” Stark announced as the call’s momentum stuttered to a halt. “And from what we learned at Lennox Hill today, if you all have any leads on what we’re facing, the help will be much appreciated.”

Fury raised an eyebrow and queried in his customary bark, “Mace?”

“From what the Doctor has discovered in Salzburg, we think you have Weeping Angels on your hands.”

“I’m sorry- Weeping _what_?”

“Doctor, this is really your area of expertise, if you don’t mind providing some clarification.”

After a short pause, the Doctor launched into a quick explanation. Thor cast a look around the table and saw varying measures of disbelief in the team’s expressions. All but one. His brother listened with no trace of skepticism- only surprised curiosity. Typical. And a little worrying. If Loki believed the Doctor’s explanation, that meant he was telling the truth, and they were in serious trouble.

“I don’t suppose you have an idea how many of those things might be running around New York,” he heard someone ask.

“It’s hard to-”

“One,” the Doctor supplied curtly, cutting off the U.N.I.T. commander. “Just one.”

_Is it just me, or does he sound upset about that fact?_

“Better news than I expected, I guess. We should be able to handle one- so long as we can find it, anyway.”

From the other side of the line came no reassuring agreement. Just uneasy silence. It dragged out long enough that even Fury was looking a bit uncomfortable. He rolled his shoulders and pushed the point, wanting to know, “Mace? Things went awful damned quiet on your side. Is there something else we haven’t been told yet?” No answer. Impatient, Fury tried again. “We lose you all or what?”

“No, we’re still here.”

“I’d be a damned sight easier to know if we had you on video. There any way we could patch you in on our teleconference line instead of the audio-only? I can give you the number.”

More hesitation, and from what Thor heard, muffled sounds of a heated disagreement going on. Aside from the Doctor, he was having trouble distinguishing the other voices. But it sounded like more than just the Doctor had been on the line with Colonel Mace. He didn’t like that they had been discussing the situation when not all parties had been properly introduced at the outset.

“Go ahead, Fury. We’ll drop and rejoin on that line,” Mace agreed at last.

The Director recited the number. Thor assumed U.N.I.T. and the Doctor hung up, although he had no way of knowing. Then it was the wait for them to rejoin. Mace appeared straight away, screen splitting to display the colonel in his own window. Alone in a small office. No way of telling if he’d always been there, or if he’d moved to it. No way to know if the additional voices they’d heard had been with him.

A minute passed with no sign of the Doctor. Thor almost thought the Time Lord wouldn’t follow through; several others on the team appeared to be having similar thoughts. And then the screen divided again, revealing the anticipated arrival of the Doctor. As Thor had suspected, he looked vastly different from the one he’d known. Medium-length, dark brown hair. Brown eyes, too; the last time they’d crossed paths, they’d been blue. He didn’t get much further than that, as his attention fixed on the other two people with the Doctor. On one of them in particular.

_This certainly bodes ill._ His glance flicked over to Loki and was not thrilled at seeing his closed expression. Dealing with his brother was much easier when he could gauge what he was thinking. _Granted, that doesn’t happen all that often. But this is definitely not a time for him to be…unpredictable._

Colonel Mace recovered first, and nodded in greeting. “Doctor- Good to see you again. And you as well, Ma’am,” he added with another nod towards an unfamiliar woman on the right. He hesitated briefly, eyes shifting to the left. “I don’t believe I’ve have the fortune of meeting your other companion.”

_Here we go._

“This is-” The Doctor shot a look to Lilith. “Um.”

“You might as well say it,” she told him irritably. “There’s little hope of hiding it _now_.”

“I’m sorry- hide what,” the U.N.I.T. commander asked in confusion.

“This is the Storyteller,” the Doctor explained by way of introduction. “Of Gallifrey.”

“Or Lilith. Either is fine.” Without skipping a beat, she added, “Please don’t call me ‘Ma’am’.”

“Time Lord. You’re a _Time Lord_?”

A sigh.

“Yes.”

“Doctor. U.N.I.T. was under the impression that only you and the Master survived the Time War. We should have been made aware of this so that we could take the appropriate precautions and security measures. Not to mention-”

“Weeping Angels,” Lilith interjected. “We’re here to discuss strategies for defeating the remaining two Weeping Angels, not to listen to any arguments on your part about how U.N.I.T. _thinks_ it wants to run my life. Not only are they utterly futile, they waste valuable time we do not have.”

“Although I agree the discussion should be tabled for the moment, I’m afraid that compliance is non-negotiable, Storyteller. This is U.N.I.T.’s jurisdiction of authority.”

As a man who’d known battles aplenty, he knew a tactical error when he saw one. Or in this case, heard one. A look Thor had never seen before shone in Lilith’s eyes. He knew her attention remained solely on Mace, but the chilling intensity of that stare seemed to bore into all of them. Unyielding and, if he were being honest, intimidating.

“You would do well to exercise caution when speaking of non-negotiable authority, Colonel Mace. U.N.I.T. is by no means the authoritative narrator on this planet, and you’ll find a great many lines can be _negotiated_ without its permission.”

She didn’t state it outright, but the implied threat was there. Lilith could rewrite time itself and erase the agency out of existence. An unsettling prospect in and of itself, made all the _more_ disquieting to hear it from a woman he’d thought he’d known fairly well and never would have seen as dangerous. Despite his wariness for the Doctor, Thor hoped he would have some means of influencing her. A quick study of the other Time Lord’s expression told him that they’d have no such luck there.

Tense silence followed, no one quite able to provide a suitable response. Mace clearly hadn’t been prepared for her implacable defiance. Even Fury was unusually passive during the whole exchange, although he kept a sharp eye on Lilith. No doubt assessing what sort of risk the team had allowed into the Tower all these years. And as for the others gathered around the table… no one wanted to draw her attention- and her temper- in their direction.

“Unless rewriting those lines includes recovering missing persons on account of these Weeping Angels, I’d rather focus on a constructive path forward.”

_I stand corrected._

Everyone turned to Loki, whose expression held equal parts humor and challenge. As if he were daring Lilith to pick a fight with him. Thor had to give his brother credit for making such a move under the current circumstances. Not only did he risk an ugly confrontation with her, but it also drew the Doctor’s attention to him. A far safer approach might have bene to sit quietly in the background and stay under the radar.

_Knowing him, that’s likely why Loki didn’t choose it._

The question remained whether he’d made the right choice. Lilith still hadn’t broken her stare, and now the Doctor fixed Loki with a look of pointed dislike. Neither Fury nor Mace seemed happy that he’d spoken out of turn. Thor looked to Stark in appeal, hoping the man could use his knack for disruption to shift the conversation focus. For once, his friend was not in an accommodating mood. This would just have to play out as it would.

Lilith blinked, and he could see a bit of that icy temper thaw. While not exactly friendly, her reply proved to be far less abrasive as she agreed, “Well, at least someone’s got their priorities in the right order.”


End file.
